^^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  *^ 


Presented 


by:^^rA  0\  CI\  .\>$oocX'r\\A\\ ,  vc\ : 


PR    3330    .Al 

Bunyan,  John,  1628-1688 

The  pilgrim's  progress 


THE 


riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


THIS  WORLD  TO  THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME 

DELIVERED 

UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 

y 

BY  JOHN  BUNYAN. 


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PUBLISHED   BY   THE 
AMERICAX    TRACT    SOCIETY, 

130   XASSAU-STREET,   NEW   YORK 


Great  pains  have  been  taken  in  collating  this 
edition  with  other  copies,  in  order  to  render  it  a 
correct  reprint  of  the  original  work.  The  original 
side-notes,  which  often  throw  much  light  on  the  text, 
have  been  preserved. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Life  of  Bunyan,  or  G  race  Abounding, ^) 

PART  I. 

The  First  Stage. — Christian's  deplorable  condition— Evangelist  di- 
rects him— Obstinate  and  Pliable— Slough  of  Despond— World- 
ly Wiseman — Mount  Sinai — Conversation  with  Evangelist,-  HI 

The  Second  Stage. — The  Gate — Conversation  with  Good-will — The 
Interpreter's  house — Christian  entertained — The  sights  there 
shown  him, - - - 168 

The  Third  Stage. — Loses  his  burden  at  the  cross — Simple,  Sloth, 
Presumption,  Formalist,  Hypocrisy — Hill  Difficulty — The  Ar- 
bor— Misses  his  roll — The  palace  Beautiful — The  liens — Talk 
with  Discretion,  Piety,  Prudence,  and  Charity — Wonders  shown 
to  Christian — He  is  armed, - 189 

The  Fourth  Stage.^ — Valley  of  Humiliation — Conflict  with  Apolly- 
on — Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death — Giants  Pope  and  Pagan,  210 

The  Fifth  Stage. — Discourse  with  Faithful — Talkative  and  Faith- 
ful— Talkative's  character, 237 

The  Sixth  Stage. — Evangelist  overtakes  Christian  and  Faithful — 
Vanity  fiir — The  Pilgrims  brought  to  trial — Faithful's  martyr- 
dom,— - - 270 

The  Seventh  Stage. — Christian  and  Hopeful — By-ends  and  his  com- 
panions— Plain  of  Ease — Lucre-hill — Demas — The  river  of  life — 
Vain-confidence — Giant  Despair — The  pilgrims  beaten — Tlic 
Dungeon — The  Key  of  Promise,  — —  2^)1 

The  Eighth  Stage.— The  Delectable  mouutains^Entertained  by 
the  Shepherds — A  by-way  to  hell.  -  - 32G 

The  Ninth  Stage. — Christian  and  Hopeful  meet  Ignorance — Turn- 
away— Little-faith— The  Flatterer— The  net— Chastised  by  a 
shining  One — Atheist — Enchanted  ground — Hopeful's  account 
of  his  conversion— Discourse  of  Chi-istian  and  Ignorance,  —  333 


4  CONTENTS. 

The  Tenth  Stage. — Talk  of  Christian  and  Hopeful — Temporary  - 
The  Backslider— The  land  of  Beulah— Christian,  and  Hopeful 
pass  the  river — Welcome  to  the  celestial  city, 377 

PART  II. 

Pilgrimage  of  Christiana  and  her  children, 413 

The  First  Stage. — Christiana  and  Mercy— Slough  of  Despond — 
Knocking  at  the  gate — The  dog — Talk  between  the  pilgrims,  433 

The  Second  Stage. — The  devil's  garden — Two  ill-favored  ones  as- 
sault them — The  Eelicver — Entertainment  at  the  Interpreter's 
house — The  Significant  rooms — Christiana  and  Mercy's  experi- 
ence,  -  447 

The  Third  Stage. — Accompanied  by  Great-heart — The  cross— justi- 
fied by  Christ — Sloth  and  his  companions  hung — The  hill  Diffi- 
culty—The arbor,  - 473 

The  Fourth  Stage. — Tlie  lions — Giant  Grim  slain  by  Great-heart — ■ 
The  pilgrims  entertained — The  children  catechized  by  Prudence 
— Mr.  Brisk — Matthew  sick — The  remedy — sights  shown  the  pil- 
grims,  - 488 

The  Fifth  Stage. — Valley  of  Humiliation — Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death— Giant  Maul  slain, 5-0 

The  Sixth  Stage. — Discourse  with  Old  Honest— Character  and  his- 
tory of  Mr.  Fearing — Mr.  Self-will  and  some  professors — Gains' 
house — Conversation — The  supper— Old  Honest  and  Great-heart's 
riddles  and  discourse — Giant  Slay-good  killed — Blr.  Feeble-mind's 
history — Mr.  Ready-to-halt — Vanity  fair — Mr.  Mnason's  house — 
cheering  entertainment  and  converse — A  monster, 538 

The  Seventh  Stage. — Hill  Lucre — River  of  Life — Giant  Despair 
killed — The  Delectable  mountains — Entertainment  by  the  Shep- 
herds,  - - 595 

The  Eighth  Stage. — Valiant-for-truth's  victory — His  talk  with 
Great-heart — The  Enchanted  ground — Heedless  and  Too-bold — • 
Mr.  Standfast — Madam  Bubble's  Temptations — The  land  of  Beu- 
lah— Christiana  summoned — her  parting  addresses — She  passes 
the  river — She  is  followed  by  Read3'-to-halt,  Feeble-mind,  De- 
spondency and  his  daughter,  Honest,  Valiant,  and  Steadfast,  612 


LIFE  Of 


THE  AUTHOR  TO  THOSE  WHOM  GOD  HATH  COUNTED 
HIM  WORTHY  TO  BEGET  TO  FAITH  BY  HIS  MIN- 
ISTRY IN   THE  WORD. 

CniLnREX,  g-raco  bo  with  yon.  Amen.  I  being  taken 
fn^ii  YOU  in  presence,  and  so  tied  up  that  I  cannot  per- 
form that  duty  that  from  God  doth  lie  upon  nic  to  you- 
ward,  for  j^our  further  edification  and  building-  up  in  faith 
and  holiness,  yet,  that  you  may  see  my  soul  hath  father- 
ly care  and  desire  after  your  spiritual  and  everlasting- 
welfare,  I  now  once  agahi,  as  before  "from  the  top  of 
Shenir  and  Ilermon."  ^o  now  "from  the  lions'  den,  and 
from  the  mountain  of  the  leopards,"  do  look  after  you  all, 
i^reatly  longing-  to  see  your  safe  arrival  into  the  desired 
haven.     Song-  4  :  8. 

I  thank  God  upon  ever}'  remembrance  of  j-ou  ;  and 
rejoice  even  while  I  stick  between  the  teeth  of  the  lions 
in  the  wilderness,  that  the  grace  and  mercy  and  know-^ 
ledge  of  Christ  our  Saviour,  which  God  hath  bestowed 
upon  you  with  abundance  of  faith  and  love,  j^our  hun- 
gerings  and  thirstings  after  further  acquaintance  with 
tlie  Father  in  the  Son,  your  tenderness  of  heart,  your 
trembling  at  sin,  your  sober  and  holy  deportment  also. 


G  LIFE  OF  EUNYAN. 

before  l)otli  God  and  men,  is  a  great  refreshment  to  me^ 
for  YOU  are  my  glory  and  joy.     1  Thess.  2  :  20. 

1  liave  sent  you  here  iuchised  a  drop  of  that  honey 
lliat  I  liave  taken  out  of  the  carcass  of  a  lion.  Judg. 
14  :  5-8.  1  have  eaten  thereof  myself,  and  am  much  re- 
i.-csh^d  thereby.  Temptations,  when  we  meet  them  at 
first,  are  as  the  lion  that  roared  upon  Samson  ;  but  if  we 
overcome  them,  tlie  next  time  we  see  them  we  shall  find 
a  nest  of  honey  within  them.  The  Philistines  understand 
me  not.  It  is  something  of  a  relation  of  the  work  of  God 
upon  my  sold,  even  from  the  very  first  till  now,  wherein 
you  may  perceive  my  castings  down  and  risings  up  ;  for 
he  woundeth,  and  his  hands  make  whole.  It  is  written 
in  the  Scripture,  The  father  to  the  children  shall  make 
known  the  truth  of  God.  Yea,  it  was  for  this  reason  I 
lay  so  long  at  Sinai,  to  see  the  fire,  and  the  cloud,  and 
the  darkness,  that  I  might  fear  the  Lord  all  the  days  of 
my  life  upon  earth,  and  tell  of  his  wondrous  works  to  my 
children.     Isa.  38  :  19  ;  Exod.  24  :  15-18  ;  Psa.  78  :  3-5. 

Moses  wrote  of  the  journeyings  of  the  children  of 
Israel  from  Egypt  to  the  land  of  Canaan  ;  and  command- 
ed also  that  they  did  remember  their  forty  years'  travel 
in  the  wilderness.  "Thou  shalt  remember  all  the  way 
which  the  Lord  thy  God  led  thee  tliese  forty  3'ears  in  the 
wilderness,  to  humble  thee,  and  to  prove  thee,  and  to 
know  what  was  in  thy  heart,  whether  thou  wouldest  keep 
his  commandments  or  no."  Num.  33 :  1,  2 ;  Deut.  8  : 2. 
Wherefore,  this  I  have  endeavored  to  do ;  and  not  only 
so,  but  to  publish  it  also,  that,  if  God  will,  others  ma}' 
be  put  in  remembrance- of  what  he  hath  done  for  their 
souls,  by  reading  his  work  upon  mc. 

It  is  profitable  for  Christians  to  be  often  calling  to 
mind  the  very  beginnings  of  grace  with  their  souls.  "It 
is  a  night  to  be  much  observed  unto  the  Lord,  for  bring- 
ing them  out  from  the  land  of  Egypt.    This  is  that  night 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

of  the  Lord  to  be  observed  of  uli  the  children  of  Israel  in 
tlieir  generations."  "My  God,"  saitli  David,  "my  sold  is 
cast  down  within  me;  therefore  will  I  remember  thee 
from  the  land  of  Jordan,  and  of  the  Ilermonites,  IVom  the 
hill  Mizar."  He  remembered  also  the  lion  and  the  bear, 
when  he  went  to  fight  with  the  giant  of  Gath.  Exod. 
12  :  42  ;  Psa.  42  :  6  ;   I  Sam.  IT  :  3G,  31 

It  was  Paul's  accustomed  manner,  and  that  when 
tried  for  his  life,  even  to  open  before  his  judges  the  man- 
ner of  his  conversion  ;  he  would  think  of  that  day  and 
that  hour  in  which  he  first  did  meet  with  grace,  for  he 
found  it  supported  him.  When  God  had  brought  the 
children  of  Israel  out  of  the  Red  sea  far  into  the  wilder- 
ness, yet  they  must  turn  quite  about  thither  again,  to  re- 
member the  drowning  of  their  enemies  there  ;  for  though 
they  sang  his  praise  before,  j^et  they  soon  forgot  his 
works.     Acts,  ch.  22,  26  ;  Num.  14  :  25  ;  Psa.  106  :  12. 

In  this  discourse  of  mine  you  may  see  much — much, 
I  sa}'^,  of  the  grace  of  God  towards  me :  I  thank  God  I 
can  count  it  much,  for  it  was  above  my  sins  and  Satan's 
temptations  too.  I  can  remember  my  fears  and  doubts 
and  sad  months  with  comfort ;  they  are  as  the  head  of 
Goliath  in  my  hand  :  there  was  nothing  to  David  like 
Goliath's  sword,  even  that  sword  that  should  have  been 
sheathed  in  his  bowels  ;  for  the  very  sight  and  remem- 
brance of  that  did  preach  forth  God's  deliverance  to  him. 
0  the  remembrance  of  my  great  sins,  of  my  great  temp- 
tations, and  of  my  great  fear  of  perishing  for  ever ! 
They  bring  afresh  into  my  mind  the  remembrance  of  mj' 
g-reat  help,  my  great  supports  from  heaven,  and  the  great 
grace  that  God  extended  to  such  a  wretch  as  I. 

My  dear  children,  call  to  mind  the  former  days,  and 
years  of  ancient  times  ;  remember  also  your  songs  in  the 
night,  and  commune  with  your  own  heart.  Psa.  71 :5-I2. 
Yea,   look   dilitreiitlv,   and  leave  no   corner   therein   un- 


8  LIFE  OF  BFXYAN. 

searched  for' that  treasure  hid,  even  the  treasure  of  your 
first  and  second  experience  of  th-e  grace  of  God  towards 
you.  Komember,  I  say,  the  word  that  first  laid  hold  upon 
you :  remember  your  terrors  of  conscience,  and  fear  of 
death  and  hell :  remember  also  your  tears  and  prayers  to 
God ;  yea,  how  you  sighed  under  every  hedge  for  mercy. 
Have  yoti  never  a  hill  Mizar  to  remember  ?  Have  you 
forgot  the  closet,  the  milk-house,  the  stable,  the  barn,  and. 
the  like,  where  God  did  visit  your  souls  ?  Remember 
also  the  word — the  word,  I  say,  upon  which  the  Lord 
hath  caused  you  to  hope.  If  you  have  sinned  against 
light,  if  you  are  tempted  to  blaspiieme,  if  you  are  drowned 
in  despair,  if  you  think  God  fights  against  you,  or  if  heav- 
en is  hid  from  your  eyes,  remember  it  was  thus  with  your 
father ;  but  out  of  them  all  the  Lord  delivered  me. 

I  could  have  enlarged  nmch,  in  this  my  discourse,  of 
my  temptations  and  troubles  for  sin,  as  also  of  the  mer- 
ciful kindness  and  working  of  God  with  my  soul ;  I  could 
also  have  stepped  into  a  style  much  higher  than  this  in 
which  I  have  here  discoursed,  and  could  have  adorned 
all  things  more  than  here  I  have  seemed  to  do,  but  I  dare 
not.  God  did  not  play  in  tempting  me  ;  neither  did  I 
play  when  I  sunk  as  into  a  bottomless  pit,  when  the 
pangs  of  hell  caught  hold  upon  me  ;  wherefore  I  may 
not  play  in  relating  them,  but  be  plain  and  simple,  and 
lay  down  the  thing  as  it  was  :  he  that  liketh  it,  let  him 
receive  it ;  and  he  that  doth  not,  let  him  produce  a  better. 

Farewell,  my  dear  children.  The  milk  and  honey  are 
beyond  this  wilderness.  God  be  merciful  to  you,  and 
grant  that  you  be  not  slothful  to  go  in  to  posses  the  land. 

JOHN  BUNYAN. 


BUNYAX  S  LIFE. 


CHAPTER   I 


In  this  my  relation  of  the  merciful  working  of  GuJ 
upon  my  soul,  it  will  not  be  amiss  if  in  the  first  place  I 
do,  in  a  few  words,  give  you  a  hint  of  my  pedigree  and 
manner  of  bringing  up  ;  that  thereby  the  goodness  and 
bounty  of  God  towards  me  may  be  the  more  advanced 
and  magnified  before  the  sons  of  men. 

For  my  descent  then,  it  was,  as  is  well  known  by 
many,  of  a  low  and  inconsiderable  generation ;  my  fa- 
ther's house  being  of  that  rank  that  is  meanest  and  most 
despised  of  all  the  families  in  the  land.  Wherefore  I 
have  not  here,  as  others,  to  boast  of  noble  blood,  or  of 
any  high-born  state  according  to  the  flesh,  though,  all 
things  considered,  I  magnify  the  heavenly  Majesty,  for 
that  by  this  door  he  brought  me  into  this  world,  to  par- 
take of  the  grace  and  life  that  is  in  Christ  by  the  gospel. 
But  yet,  notwithstanding  the  meanness  and  inconsider- 
ableness  of  my  parents,  it  pleased  God  to  put  it  into 
their  hearts  to  put  me  to  school,  to  learn  me  both  to 
read  and  write  ;  the  which  I  also  attained  according  to 
the  rate  of  other  men's  children,  though  to  my  shame,  I 
confess  I  did  soon  Ljse  that  little  I  learned,  even  almost 
utterly,  and  that  long  before  the  Lord  did  work  his  gra- 
cious work  of  conversion  upon  my  soul. 
1* 


10  LIFE  OF  BUNYAX. 

As  for  my  own  natui-al  life  for  the  time  that  I  was 
without  God  in  the  world,  it  was  indeed  "according  to 
the  course  of  this  world,"  and  "the  spirit  that  now  work- 
eth  in  the  children  of  disobedience."  Eph.  2:2,  3.  It 
was  my  delight  to  be  taken  captive  by  the  "devil  at  his 
will,"  2  Tim.  2  :  26,  being  filled  with  all  unrighteousness  •, 
the  which  did  also  so  strongly  work  and  put  forth  itself 
both  in  my  heart  and  life,  and  that  from  a  child,  that  I 
had  few  equals,  especially  considering  my  j-ears,  which 
were  tender,  for  cursing,  swearing,  lying,  and  blasphem- 
ing the  holy  name  of  God.  Yea,  so  settled  and  rooted 
was  I  in  these  things,  that  they  became  as  a  second 
nature  to  me ;  the  which,  as  I  have  also  with  soberness 
considered  since,  did  so  offend  the  Lord,  that  even  in  my 
childhood  he  did  scare  and  aflfrighten  me  with  fearful 
dreams,  and  did  terrify  me  with  fearful  visions.  For 
often,  after  I  had  spent  this  and  the  other  day  in  sin,  I 
have  in  my  bed  been  greatly  afflicted,  while  asleep,  with 
the  apprehensions  of  devils  and  wicked  spirits,  who  still, 
as  I  then  thought,  labored  to  draw  me  away  with  them, 
of  which  I  could  never  be  rid. 

Also,  I  would  at  these  years  be  greatly  afflicted  and 
troubled  with  the  thoughts  of  the  fearful  torments  of 
hell-fire  ;  still  fearing  that  it  would  be  my  lot  to  be  found 
at  last  among  those  devils  and  hellish  fiends  who  are 
there  bound  down  with  the  chains  and  bonds  of  darkness 
unto  the  judgment  of  the  great  day.  These  things,  I 
say,  when  I  was  but  a  child  but  nine  or  ten  years  old, 
did  so  distress  my  soul,  that  then,  in  the  midst  of  my 
many  sports  and  childish  vanities,  amid  my  vain  com- 
panions, I  was  often  much  cast  down  and  afflicted  in  my 
mind  therewith  ;  yet  could  I  not  let  go  my  sins  :  yea,  I 
was  also  then  so  overcome  with  despair  of  life  and  heav- 
en, that  I  would  often  wish,  either  that  there  had  been 
no  hell,  or  that  I  had  been  a  devil — supposing  devils  were 


OR  GRACE  ABOUXDIXG.  11 

only  tormentors — that  if  it  must  needs  be  that  1  went 
thitlier,  I  might  be  rather  a  tormentor  than  be  tormented 
myself. 

A  while  after  those  terrible  dreams  did  leave  me, 
which  also  I  soon  forgot ;  for  my  pleasures  did  quickly 
cut  off  the  remembrance  of  them,  as  if  they  never  had 
been  ;  wherefore,  with  more  greediness,  according  to  the 
strength  of  nature,  I  still  let  loose  the  reins  of  my  lust, 
and  delighted  in  all  transgressions  against  the  law  of 
God  ;  so  that  until  I  came  to  the  state  of  marriage,  I 
was  the  very  ringleader  of  all  the  youth  that  kept  mc 
company,  in  all  manner  of  vice  and  ungodliness.  Yea, 
such  prevalency  had  the  lusts  and  fruits  of  the  flesh  on 
this  poor  soul  of  mine,  that,  had  not  a  miracle  of  precious 
grace  prevented,  I  had  not  only  perished  by  the  stroke  of 
eternal  justice,  but  had  also  laid  myself  open  even  to  the 
stroke  of  those  laws  wdiich  bring  some  to  disgrace  and 
open  shame  before  the  face  of  the  world. 

In  those  days  the  thoughts  of  religion  were  very 
grievous  to  me  :  I  could  neither  endure  it  myself,  nor 
that  any  other  should  ;  so  that  when  I  have  seen  some 
read  in  thcs-e  books  that  concerned  Christian  piety,  it 
would  be  as  it  were  a  prison  to  me.  Then  I  said  unto 
God,  "  Depart  from  me  ;  for  I  desire  not  the  knowledge  of 
thy  way.s."  Job  21  :  14,  15.  I  was  now  void  of  all  good 
consideration  ;  heaven  and  hell  were  both  out  of  sight 
and  mind  ;  and  as  for  saving  and  damning,  they  were 
least  in  my  thoughts.  0  Lord,  thou  knowest  my  life, 
and  my  ways  were  not  hid  from  thee. 

But  this  I  well  remember,  that  tliough  I  could  myself 
sin  with  the  greatest  delight  and  ease,  and  also  take 
pleasure  in  the  vileness  of  my  companions,  yet,  even 
then,  if  1  had  at  any  time  seen  wicked  things  in  those 
who  professed  goodness,  it  would  make  my  spirit  trem- 
ble.    As,  once  above  all  the  rest,  when  I  was  in  the 


12  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

height  of  vanity,  yet  liearing  one  swear  that  was  reck- 
oned for  a  religious  man,  it  had  so  great  a  stroke  upon 
my  spirit  that  it  made  my  heart  ache. 

God  did  not  utterly  leave  me,  but  followed  me  still, 
int  with  convictions,  but  judgments,  yet  such  as  were 
mixed  with  mercy.  For  once  I  fell  into  a  creek  of  the 
sea,  and  hardly  escaped  drowning.  Another  time  I  fell 
out  of  a  boat  into  Bedford  river,  but  mercy  yet  preserv- 
ed me  alive.  Besides,  another  time  being  in  the  field 
with  one  of  my  companions,  it  chanced  that  an  adder 
passed  over  the  highway  ;  so  I  having  a  stick  in  my 
hand,  struck  her  over  the  back,  and  having  stuimed  her, 
I  forced  open  her  mouth  with  my  stick,  and  plucked  her 
sting  out  with  my  fingers  ;  by  which  act,  had  not  God 
been  merciful  unto  me,  I  might  by  my  desperateness 
have  brought  myself  to  my  end. 

This  also  I  have  taken  notice  of,  with  thanksgiving : 
when  I  was  a  soldier,  I  with  others  was  drawn  out  to  go 
to  such  a  place  to  besiege  it ;  but  wlien  I  was  just  ready 
to  go,  one  of  the  company  desired  to  go  in  my  room :  to 
which  when  I  had  consented,  he  took  my  place  ;  and 
coming  to  the  siege,  as  he  stood  sentinel  he  was  shot  in 
the  head  by  a  musket-ball,  and  died.  Here,  as  I  said, 
were  judgments  and  mercy,  but  neither  of  them  did  awa- 
ken my  soul  to  righteousness  :  wherefore  I  sinned  still, 
and  grew  more  and  more  rebellious  against  God,  and 
cureless  of  my  own  salvation. 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  13 


CIIAPTEK   II. 

Presently  after  this  I  changed  my  condition  into  a 
married  state,  and  my  mercy  was  to  light  upon  a  wile 
whose  fatlier  was  counted  godly.  This  woman  and  I, 
though  we  came  together  as  poor  as  poor  might  be,  not 
having  so  much  household  stuff  as  a  dish  or  spoon  be- 
tween us  both,  yet  this  she  had  for  her  part,  "The  Plain 
Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven"  and  "The  Practice  of  Piety," 
which  her  father  had  left  her  when  ho  died.  In  these  two 
books  I  would  sometimes  read  with  her,  wherein  I  also 
found  some  things  that  were  somewhat  pleasing  to  me  ; 
but  all  this  while  I  met  with  no  conviction.  She  also 
would  bo  often  telling  me  what  a  godly  man  her  father 
was,  and  how  he  would  reprove  and  correct  vice,  both 
in  his  house  and  among  his  neighbors  ;  and  what  a  strict 
and  holy  life  he  lived  in  his  daj's,  both  in  words  and  deeds. 

Wherefore  these  books,  with  the  relation,  though  they 
did  not  reach  my  heart  to  awaken  it  about  my  sad  and 
sinful  state,  yet  they  did  beget  within  me  some  desires 
to  reform  my  vicious  life  and  fall  in  very  eagerly  with 
the  religi(m  of  the  times,  to  wit,  to  go  to  church  twice 
a  day,  and  that  too  with  the  foremost ;  and  there  I  would 
very  devoutly  both  say  and  sing  as  others  did,  yet  re- 
taining my  wicked  life  ;  but  withal  I  was  so  overrun 
with  the  spirit  of  superstition  that  I  adored,  and  that 
with  great  devotion,  even  all  things,  both  the  high-place, 
priest,  clerk,  vestment,  service,  and  what  else  belonging 
to  the  church — counting  all  things  holy  that  were  there- 
in contained,  and  especially  the  priest  and  clerk  most 
happy,  and  without  doubt  greatly  blessed,  because  they 
were  the  servants,  as  I  then  thought,  of  God,  and  were 
principal  in  the  holy  temple,  to  do  his  work  therein. 


U  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

Tliis  conceit  grew  so  strong  in  a  little  time  upon  my 
spirit,  that  had  1  but  seen  a  priest,  though  never  so  sor- 
did and  debauched  in  his  life,  I  should  find  my  spirit  fall 
under  him,  reverence  him,  and  knit  unto  him  ;  yea,  I 
thought,  for  the  love  I  did  bear  unto  them— supposing 
they  were  the  ministers  of  God — I  could  have  laid  down 
at  their  feet,  and  have  been  trampled  upon  by  them, 
their  name,  their  garb,  and  work  did  so  intoxicate  and 
bewitch  me. 

After  I  had  been  thus  for  some  considerable  time, 
another  thought  came  into  my  mind,  and  that  was  wheth- 
er we  were  of  the  Israelites  or  no  ;  for  finding  in  the 
Scriptures  that  they  were  once  the  peculiar  people  of 
God,  thought  I,  if  I  were  one  of  this  race,  my  soul  must 
needs  be  happy.  Now  again  I  found  within  me  a  great 
longing  to  be  resolved  about  this  question,  but  could  not 
tell  how  I  should  ;  at  last  I  asked  my  father  of  it,  wlio 
told  me  we  were  not.  Wherefore  then  I  fell  in  my  spirit 
as  to  the  hopeu  of  that,  and  so  remained.  But  all  this 
while  I  was  not  sensible  of  the  danger  and  evil  of  sin  ;  I 
was  kept  from  considering  that  sin  would  damn  me, 
what  religion  soever  I  followed,  unless  I  was  found  in 
Christ :  nay,  I  never  tliought  of  him,  nor  whether  there 
was  such  a  one  or  no.  Thus  man,  while  blind,  doth  won- 
der, but  wearieth  himself  with  vanity,  for  he  knoweth 
not  the  way  to  the  city  of  God.     Ecclcs.  10  :  15. 

But  one  day,  among  all  the  sermons  our  parson  made, 
his  subject  was  to  treat  of  thj  Sahbath-day,  and  of  the 
evil  of  breaking  that,  either  with  labor,  sports,  or  other- 
wise. Now  I  was,  notwithstanding  my  religion,  ono 
that  took  much  delight  in  all  manner  of  vice,  and  espe- 
cially that  was  the  day  that  I  did  solace  myself  there- 
with ;  wherefore  I  fell  in  my  conscience  under  this  ser- 
mon, thinking  and  believing  that  he  made  that  sermon 
on  purpose  to  show  me  my  evil-doing.     And  at  that  time 


OR  GRACE  ABOUXDIXCr.  15 

I  felt  what  gniilt  was,  tlioug-li  never  before  tliat  I  can 
remember;  but  then  1  was  Inr  the  i)resent  greatly  load- 
ed tliercwitli,  and  so  went  home  when  tlie  sermon  was 
ended  with  a  g-reat  burden  upon  my  spirit. 

This  for  that  instant  did  benumb  the  sinews  of  my 
best  delights,  and  imbitter  my  former  pleasures  to  me  ; 
but  behold  it  lasted  not,  for  before  I  had  well  dined,  the 
trouble  began  to  go  oft'  my  mind,  and  my  heart  returned 
to  its  old  course  ;  but  Oh,  how  glad  was  I  that  this 
trouble  was  gone  from  me,  and  that  the  fire  was  put  out, 
that  I  might  sin  again  without  control.  Wherefore,  when 
I  had  satisfied  nature  with  my  food,  I  shook  the  sermon 
out  of  my  mind,  and  to  my  old  custom  of  sports  and 
gaming  I  returned  with  great  delight. 

But  the  same  day,  as  I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  game  of 
cat,  and  having  struck  it  one  blow  from  the  hole,  just  as 
*I  was  about  to  strike  it  a  second  tiiiio,  a  voice  did  sud- 
denly dart  from  heaven  into  my  soul,  which  said,  "Wilt 
thou  leave  thy  sins  and  go  to  heaven,  or  have  thy  sins 
and  go  to  hell?"  At  tliis  I  was  put  to  an  exceeding 
maze  ;  wherefore,  leaving  my  bat  upon  the  ground,  I 
looked  up  to  heaven,  and  was  as  if  I  had  with  the  ej^cs 
of  my  understanding  seen  the  Lord  Jesus  looking  down 
upon  me,  as  being  very  hotly  displeased  with  me,  and  as 
if  ho  did  severely  threaten  me  with  some  grievous  pun- 
ishment for  these  and  other  ungodly  practices.  I  had 
no  sooner  thus  conceived  in  my  mind,  but  suddenly  this 
conclusion  was  fastened  on  my  spirit,  for  the  former  hint 
did  set  my  sins  again  before  my  face,  that  I  had  been  a 
great  and  grievous  sinner,  and  that  it  Avas  now  too  lale 
for  me  to  look  after  heaven,  for  Christ  would  not  forgive 
me  nor  pardon  my  transgressions.  Then  I  fell  to  musing 
on  this  also  ;  and  while  I  was  thinking  of  it,  and  fearing 
Iqst  it  should  be  so,  I  felt  my  heart  sink  in  despair,  con- 
cluding it  was  too  late,  and  therefore  I  resolved  in  my 


IG  BUXYAX'S  LIFE, 

mind  to  go  on  in  sin  ;  for,  thought  I,  if  the  case  be  thus, 
ni}'  state  is  surely  miserable — miserable  if  I  leave  my 
sins,  and  but  miserable  if  I  follow  them  :  I  can  but  be 
damned  ;  and  if  it  must  be  so,  I  had  as  good  be  damned 
for  many  sins  as  be  damned  for  few. 

Thus  I  stood  in  the  midst  of  my  play  before  all  that 
then  were  present,  but  yet  1  told  them  nothing :  but,  I 
say,  having  made  this  conclusion,  I  returned  desperately 
to  my  sport  again  ;  and  I  well  remember,  that  presently 
this  kind  of  despair  did  so  possess  my  soul,  that  I  was 
persuaded  I  could  never  attain  to  other  comfort  than 
what  I  should  get  in  sin,  for  heaven  was  gone  already, 
so  that  on  that  I  must  not  think  ;  wherefore  I  found 
within  me  great  desire  to  take  my  fill  of  sin,  still  study- 
ing what  sin  was  yet  to  be  committed,  that  I  might 
taste  the  sweetness  of  it ;  and  I  made  as  much  haste  as 
I  could  to  fill  my  belly  with  its  delicacies,  lest  I  should' 
die  before  I  had  my  desires,  for  that  I  feared  greatly. 
In  these  things,  I  protest  before  God  I  lie  not,  neither  do 
I  frame  this  sort  of  speech ;  these  were  really,  strongly, 
and  with  all  my  heart,  my  desires.  The  good  Lord,  whose 
mercy  is  unsearchable,  forgive  my  transgressions.  And 
I  am  very  confident  that  this  temptation  of  the  devil  is 
more  usual  among  poor  creatures  than  many  are  aware 
of,  even  to  overrun  the  spirits  with  a  seared  frame  of 
heart"  and  benumbing  of  conscience ;  which  frame  ho 
stilly  and  slily  supplicth  with  such  despair,  that  thougli 
no  peculiar  guilt  resteth  upon  them,  yet  they  continually 
have  a  secret  conclusion  within  them  that  there  is  no 
hope  for  them,  for  they  have  loved  sins,  therefore  after 
them  they  will  go.     Jer.  2  :  25  ;  18:12. 

Now  therefore  I  went  on  in  sin  with  great  greediness 
of  mind,  still  grudging  that  I  could  not  be  satisfied  with 
it  as  I  would.  This  continued  with  me  about  a  month 
or  more  ;  but  one  day,  as  I  was  standing  at  a  neighbor's 


OR  nil  APE   ABOrXDIXC:.  IT 

shop-window,  and  there  cursing  and  swearing  and  ph^y- 
ing  the  madman  after  my  wonted  manner,  there  sat 
within  the  woman  of  the  house,  and  heard  me,  who, 
though  she  was  a  very  loose  and  ungodly  wretch,  yet 
protested  that  I  swore  and  cursed  at  that  most  fearful 
rate  that  she  was  made  to  tremble  to  hear  me  ;  and  told 
me  further,  that  I  was  the  ungodliest  fellow  for  swearing 
that  she  ever  heard  in  all  her  life,  and  that  I  by  thus 
doing  was  able  to  spoil  all  the  youth  in  the  whole  town, 
if  they  came  but  in  my  company.  At  this  reproof  I  was 
silenced  and  put  to  secret  shame,  and  that  too,  as  I 
thought,  before  the  God  of  heaven  ;  wherefore  while  I 
stood  there  hanging  down  my  head,  I  wished  with  all 
my  heart  that  I  might  be  a  little  child  again,  that  my 
father  might  learn  me  to  speak  without  this  wicked  way 
of  swearing ;  for,  thought  I,  I  am  so  accustomed  to  it 
that  it  is  in  vain  for  me  to  think  of  reformation,  for  I 
thought  that  could  never  be. 

But — how  it  came  to  pass  I  know  not — I  did  from 
this  time  forward  so  leave  my  swearing  that  it  Avas  a 
great  wonder  to  myself  to  observe  it ;  and  whereas  be- 
fore I  knew  not  how  to  speak  unless  I  put  an  oath  before 
and  another  behind  to  make  my  w'ords  have  authority, 
now  I  could  without  an  oath  speak  better  and  with  more 
pleasantness  than  ever  I  could  before.  All  this  while  I 
knew  not  Jesus  Christ,  neither  did  I  leave  my  sports  and 
plays.  But  quickly  after  this  I  fell  into  company  with 
one  poor  man  that  made  profession  of  religion,  who,  as 
I  then  thought,  did  talk  pleasantly  of  the  Scriptures  and 
of  the  matter  of  religion ;  wherefore,  falling  into  some 
love  and  liking  to  what  he  said,  I  betook  nic  to  my  Bible, 
and  began  to  take  great  pleasure  in  reading,  but  espe- 
cially the  historical  part  the,reof ;  for  as  for  Paul's  epis- 
tles and  such  like  scriptures  I  could  not  away  with  them, 
being  as  yet  ignorant  both  of  the  corruption  of  our  na- 


18  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

tiire  and  of  llio  want  and  worth  of  Jesus  Christ  to  save 
ns  :  wherefore  I  fell  to  sonu;  outward  reforniation  both 
in  my  words  and  life,  and  did  set  the  commandments  bo- 
fore  mo  for  my  way  to  heaven  ;  which  commandments 
1  also  did  strive  to  keep,  and  as  I  thought  did  keep  them 
jretty  well  sometimes,  and  then  I  would  have  comfort, 
yet  now  and  then  would  break  one,  and  so  afflict  my 
conscience  ;  but  then  I  would  rei)ent  and  say  I  was  sorry 
for  it,  and  promise  God  to  do  better  next  time,  and  there 
got  help  again,  for  then  I  thought  I  i)leased  God  as  well 
as  any  man  in  England. 

Thus  I  continued  about  a  year,  all  which  time  our 
neighbors  did  take  me  to  be  a  ver}'  godly  man,  a  new 
and  religious  man,  and  did  marvel  much  to  see  such 
great  and  famous  alteration  in  my  life  and  manners; 
and  indeed  so  it  was,  though  I  Icnew  not  Christ,  nor 
grace,  nor  faith,  nor  hope,  for,  as  1  have  well  since  seen, 
had  I  then  died  my  state  had  been  most  fearful.  But,  I 
say,  my  neighbors  were  amazed  at  this  my  great  con- 
version from  prodigious  profaneness  to  something  like  a 
moral  life  ;  and  truly  so  they  well  might,  for  this  my 
conversion  was  as  great  as  for  Tom  of  Bedlam  to  become 
a  sober  man.  Now  therefore  tliey  began  to  praise,  to 
commend,  and  to  speak  well  of  me,  both  to  my  face  and 
behind  my  back.  Now  I  w^as,  as  they  said,  become  god- 
ly— now  I  was  become  a  right  honest  man.  But  Oh, 
when  I  understood  those  were  their  words  and  opinions 
of  me,  it  pleased  me  mighty  well,  for  though  as  yet  I 
was  nothing  but  a  poor  painted  hypocrite,  yet  T  loved  to 
be,  talked  of  as  one  that  was  truly  godly.  I  was  proud 
of  my  godliness,  and  indeed  I  did  all  I  did  eitlier  to  be 
seen  or  to  be  well  spoken  of  by  men ;  and  thus  I  contin- 
ued for  about  a  twelvemonth  or  more. 


OH   GRACE  ABOLNDING.  19 


CHAPTER    III. 

Now  you  must  know,  that  before  this  I  had  taken 
iriUcli  delig'ht  in  ringing;  but  my  conscience  beginnirig' 
to  be  tender,  I  thought  such  a  practice  was  but  vain, 
and  therefore  forced  myself  to  leave  it,  yet  my  mind 
hankered  ;  v.dierefore  I  would  go  to  the  steeple-house  and 
look  on,  though  1  durst  not  ring.  But  I  thought  this  did 
not  become  religion  neither,  yet  I  forced  myself,  and 
would  look  on  still ;  but  quickly  after  I  began  to  think, 
how  if  one  of  the  bells  should  fall  ?  Then  I  chose  to 
stand  under  a  main  beam  that  lay  overthwart  the  stee-. 
pie  from  side  to  side,  thinking  here  I  might  stand  sure ; 
but  then  I  thought  again,  should  the  bell  fall  with  a 
swing,  it  nn'ght  first  hit  the  wall,  and  then  rebounding 
upon  me,  might  kill  me  for  all  this  beam.  This  made 
me  stand  in  the  steeple-door ;  and  now,  thought  I,  I 
am  safe  enough,  for  if  the  bell  should  fall  I  can  slip  out 
behind  these  thick  walls,  and  so  be  ])reserved  notwith- 
standing. So  after  this  I  would  yet  go  to  see  them  ring, 
but  would  not  go  any  further  than  the  steeple-door  ;,but 
then  it  came  into  my  head,  how  if  the  steeple  itself 
should  fall  ?  And  this  thought — it  may  be  for  aught  I 
know  when  I  stood  and  looked  on — did  continually  so 
shako  my  mind  that  I  durst  not  stand  at  the  steeple-door 
any  longer,  but  was  forced  to  flee  for  fear  the  steeple 
should  fall  upoujny  head. 

<  Another  thing  was  my  dancing:  I  was  full  a  year 
before  I  could  quite  leave  that.  All  this  while,  when  I 
tiiought  I  kept  this  or  that  connnand,  or  did  by  word  or 
deed  any  thing  I  thought  Avas  good,  I  had  groat  peace 
in  my  conscience,  and  would  think  with  myself,  God 
cannot  clioose  but   be  now  ])leased   with  me ;  yea,   to 


20  BUXYAN'S  LIFE, 

relate  it  in  my  own  wa}^,  I  thought  no  man  in  England 
could  please  God  better  than  I.  But,  poor  wretch  as  I 
was,  I  was  all  this  while  ignorant  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
going-  about  to  establish  my  own  righteousness,  and  had 
perished  therein,  had  not  God  in  mercy  showed  mc  more 
of  my  state  by  nature. 

But  upon  a  day  the  good  providence  of  God  called 
me  to  Bedford  to  work  at  my  calling,  and  in  one  of  the 
streets  of  that  ti^wn  1  came  where  there  were  three  or 
four  poor  won\en  sitting  at  a  door  in  the  sun  talking  about 
the  things  of  God :  and  being  now  willing  to  hear  their 
discourse,  I  drew  near  to  hear  what  they  said,  for  I  was 
now  a  brisk  talker  of  myself  in  the  matters  of  religion  ; 
but  I  may  say  I  heard,  but  understood  not,  for  they  were 
far  above  out  of  my  reach.  Their  talk  was  about  a  new 
birth,  the  work  of  God  in  their  hearts,  as  also  how  they 
were  convinced  of  their  miserable  state  by  nature  ;  they 
talked  how  God  had  visited  tlieir  souls  with  his  love  in 
the  Lord  Jesus,  and  witli  Avhat  words  and  promises  they 
had  been  refreshed,  comforted,  and  supported  against  the 
temptations  of  the  devil ;  moreover,  they  reasoned  of  the 
suggestions  and  temptations  of  Satan  in  particular,  and 
told  to  each  other  by  what  means  they  had  been  afflict- 
ed, and  how  they  were  borne  up  under  his  assaults. 
They  also  discoursed  of  their  own  wretchedness  of  heart 
and  of  their  unbelief,  and  did  contemn,  slight,  and  abhor 
their  own  righteousness  as  filthy  and  insufficient  to  do 
them  any  good. 

And  mcthought  they  spoke  as  if  joy  did  make  them 
speak  ;  they  spoke  with  such  pleasantness  of  scriptin-e 
language,  and  with  such  appearance  of  grace  in  all  they 
said,  that  they  -were  to  me  as  if  they  had  found  a  new 
world — as  if  they  were  people  that  dwelt  alone,  and 
were  not  to  be  reckoned  among  their  neighbors.  At 
this  I  felt  my  own  heart  begin  to  shake  and  mistrust  my 


OR  GRACE    ABOUNDING.  21 

conditio-)  to  1)1?  ii:iu;>-lit,  fur  I  saw  th;it  in  all  iny  tlioug-hts 
abi>ut  n.'lig-ioii  and  salvation  the  now  birth  did  ucvvr 
enter  my  mind,  neither  knew  I  the  comfort  of  the  word 
and  promise,  n  )r  the  deceitfuhiess  and  treachery  of  iiiy 
own  wicked  heart.  As  for  secret  thoug-hts,  I  took  no 
Dotice  of  them,  neither  did  I  understand  what  Satan's 
temptations  were,  nor  how  tliey  were  to  be  withstood 
and  rosiatcd. 

Thus  therefore,  when  I  liad  heard  and  considered 
what  they  said,  I  left  them  and  went  about  my  employ- 
ment again,  but  their  talk  and  discourse  wont  with  me  ; 
also  my  heart  would  tarry  with  them,  for  I  was  greatly 
afifected  with  their  words,  both  because  by  them  I  was 
convinced  that  I  wanted  the  true  tokens  of  a  truly  godly 
man,  and  also  because  by  them  I  Avas  convinced  of  the 
happy  and  blessed  condition  of  him  that  was  such  a  one. 
Therefore  I  would  often  make  it  my  business  to  be  going 
again  and  again  into  the  company  of  these  poor  people, 
for  I  could  not  stay  away  ;  and  the  more  I  wxmt  among 
them,  the  more  I  did  question  my  condition  ;  and  as  I 
still  do  remember,  presently  I  found  two  things  within^ 
me  at  which  I  did  sometimes  marvel,  especially  consid- 
ering what  a  blind,  ignorant,  sordid,  and  ungodly  wretch 
but  just  before  I  was.  The  one  was  a  very  great  soft- 
ness and  tenderness  of  heart,  which  caused  me  to  fall 
under  the  conviction  of  what  by  Scripture  they  assert- 
ed ;  and  the  other  was  a  great  bending  in  my  mind  to  a 
continual  meditating  on  it  and  on  all  other  good  tilings 
which  at  any  time  I  heard  or  read  of. 

By  these  things  my  mind  was  now  so  turned  that  it 
Jay  like  a  horse-leech  at  the  vein,  still  crying  out,  Give, 
give.  My  mind  was  so  fixed  on  eternity  and  on  the 
things  about  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  that  is,  so  far  as  I 
knew,  though  as  yet  God  knows  I  knew  but  little,  that 
neither  pleasures,  nor  profits,  nor  persuasions,  nor  threats 


22  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

could  loose  it  or  make  it  let  go  its  hold  ;  and  though  I 
may  speak  it  with  shame,  yet  it  is  in  very  deed  a  certain 
truth,  it  would  then  have  been  as  difficult  for  me  to  have 
taken  my  mind  from  heaven  to  earth,  as  I  have  found  it 
often  since  to  get  it  again  from  earth  to  heaven. 

One  thing  I  may  not  omit.  There  was  a  young  man* 
in  our  town  to  whom  my  heart  before  was  knit  more 
than  to  any  other ;  but  he  being  a  most  wicked  creature 
for  cursing  and  swearing  and  uncleanness,  1  now  shook 
him  off  and  forsook  his  company.  About  a  quarter  of  a 
year  after  I  had  left  him,  I  met  him  in  a  certain  lane  and 
asked  him  how  he  did.  He  after  his  old  swearing  and 
mad  way  answered  he  was  well.  "  But,  Harry,"  said  I, 
"why  do  you  curse  and  swear  thus  ?  What  will  become 
of  you  if  you  die  in  this  condition  ?"  He  answered  me  in 
a  great  chafe,  "  What  would  the  devil  do  for  company,  if 
it  were  not  for  such  as  1  am  ?"' 

About  this  time  I  me{  with  some  ranters'  books  that 
were  put  forth  by  some  of  our  countrymen,  which  books 
were  also  highly  in  esteem  by  several  old  professors. 
Some  of  these  I  read,  but  was  not  able  to  make  any 
judgment  about  them ;  wherefore  as  I  read  in  them  and 
thought  upon  them,  seeing  myself  unable  to  judge,  I 
would  betake  myself  to  hearty  prayer  in  this  marnier : 

"  0  Lord,  I  am  a  fool  and  not  able  to  know  the  truth 
from  error.  Lord,  leave  me  not  to  my  own  blindness, 
cither  to  approve  of  or  condemn  this  doctrine.  If  it  be 
of  God,  let  me  not  despise  it ;  if  it  be  of  the  devil,  let 
me  not  embrace  it.  Lord,  I  lay  my  soul  in  this  matter 
only  at  thy  feet ;  let  me  not  be  deceived,  1  hundily  be- 
seech thee.'' 

1  had  one  religious  companion  all  this  while,  and  that 
was  the  p(jor  man  I  spoke  of  before  ;  but  about  this  time 
he  also  turned  a  most  dev'ilish  ranter,  and  gave  himself 
up  to  all  manner  of  filthiness,  especially  uncleanness : 


OR  GRACE  AbOUXDIXG.  23 

he  would  also  deny  tlmt  there  was  a  God,  angel,  or 
spirit,  and  would  kuig-li  at  all  exhortations  to  sobriety. 
When  I  labored  to  rebuke  his  wickedness,  he  would 
laugh  the  more,  and  pretend  that  ho  had  gone  through 
all  religions,  and  could  never  hit  upon  the  right  till  no\Y 
Uo  told  me  also,  that  in  a  little  time  I  sViould  see  all  pro- 
iessors  tiu'n  to  the  ways  of  the  ranters.  Wherefore, 
abominating  those  cursed  principles,  I  left  his  company 
forthwith,  and  became  to  him  as  great  a  stranger  as  I 
had  been  before  a  familiar. 

Neither  was  this  man  only  a  temptation  to  me,  but 
my  calling  lying  in  the  country,  I  happened  to  come  into 
several  people's  company,  who  though  strict  in  religion 
formerly,  yet  were  also  drawn  away  by  these  ranters. 
These  would  also  talk  with  mc  of  their  ways,  and  con- 
demn mc  as  legal  and  dark,  pretending  that  they  only 
had  attained  to  perfection,  that  they  could  do  what  they 
would  and  not  sin.  Oh,  these  temptations  Avero  suitable 
to  my  flesh,  I  being  but  a  yoxing  man  and  my  nature  in 
its  prime  ;  but  God,  who  had  as  I  hoped  designed  me  for 
better  things,  kept  mo  in  the  fear  of  his  name,  and  did 
not  suffer  mc  to  accept  such  cursed  principles.  And 
blessed  bo  God,  who  put  it  into  my  heart  to  cry  to  him 
to  be  kept  and  directed,  still  distrusting  mine  own  wis' 
dom,  for  I  have  since  seen  even  the  eficcts  of  that  prayer 
in  his  ])reserving  mc  not  only  from  ranting  errors,  but 
from  those  also  that  have  sprung  up  since.  The  Bible 
was  precious  to  me  in  those  days. 

And  now  mothought  I  began  to  look  into  the  Bible 
with  new  eyes,  and  read  as  I  never  did  before  ;  and 
especially  the  epistles  of  the  apostle  Paul  were  sweet 
and  pleasant  to  me  ;  and  indeed,  then  I  was  never  out  of 
the  Bible,  either  by  reading  or  meditation,  still  crying 
out  to  God  that  I  might  know  the  truth  and  the  way  to 
heaven  and  glory.      And  as  I  went  on  and  read,  I  hit 


24:  BUNYANS  LIFE, 

upon  that  passage,  "To  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit  the 
word  of  wisdom  ;  to  another,  the  word  of  knowledge  by 
the  same  Spirit ;  to  another,  faith,"  etc.  1  Cor.  12:8,  9. 
And  though  1  have  since  seen  that  by  this  scripture  the 
Holy  Ghost  intends  in  special  things  extraordinary,  yet 
on  me  it  did  then  fasten  with  conviction  that  I  did  want 
things  ordinary,  oven  that  understanding  and  wisdom 
that  other  Christians  had.  On  this  word  I  mused,  and 
could  not  tell  what  to  do  ;  especially  this  word  faith  put 
me  to  it,  for  I  could  not  help  it,  but  sometimes  must 
question  whether  I  had  any  faith  or  no  ;  but  I  was  loath 
to  conclude  I  had  no  faith,  for  if  I  do  so,  thought  I,  then 
I  shall  count  myself  a  very  castaway  indeed. 

No,  said  1  with  myself,  though  I  am  convinced  that  I 
ani  an  ignorant  sot,  and  that  I  want  those  blessed  gifts 
of  knowledge  and  understanding  that  other  people  have, 
yet  at  a  venture  I  will  conclude  I  am  not  altogether 
faithless,  thougli  I  know  not  what  faith  is  ;  for  it  was 
shown  me,  and  that  too,  as  I  have  seen  since,  by  Satan, 
that  those  who  conclude;  themselves  in  a  faithless  state 
have  neither  rest  nor  quiet  in  their  souls,  and  I  was 
loath  to  fall  (piite  into  despair. 

Wherefore  by  this  suggestion  I  was  for  a  while  made 
afraid  to  see  my  want  of  faith  ;  but  G(k1  would  not  suffer 
me  thus  to  undo  and  destroy  my  soul,  but  did  continually 
against  this  my  sad  and  blind  conclusion  create  still 
within  me  such  suppositions,  insomuch  that  I  could  not 
rest  content  until  I  did  now  come  to  some  certain  know- 
ledge whether  1  had  faith  or  no,  this  always  running  in 
uiy  mind:  "But  how  if  yon  want  faith  indeed?  But 
how  can  you  tell  you  liave  faith  ?"  And  besides,  I  saw 
for  certain  that  if  1  had  not,  I  was  sure  to  perish  for 
ever ;  so  that  though  I  endeavored  at  the  first  to  overr 
look  the  business  of  faith,  yet  in  a  little  time,  I  better 
considering  the  matter,  was  willing  to  put  myself  upon 


OR  GfiACE  AliOUNDlNG.  25 

tho  trial  wIicHkt  I  liad  faith  .or  no.  But  alas,  poor 
wictcli,  so  ig'norant  and  brutish  was  I,  that  I  know  not 
to  this  day  any  more  how  to  do  it,  than  I  knew  how  to 
bof^in  and  accomplish  a  rare  and  curious  piece  of  art 
wliicli  I  never  yet  saw  or  consitl(>rcd. 

Wherefore,  while  I  was  thus  considering'  and  being 
put  to  a  plunge  about  it,  for  you  must  know  tiiat  as  yet 
I  liad  not  in  this  matter  broken  my  mind  to  any  one, 
only  did  hear  and  consider,  the  tempter  came  in  with 
this  delusion,  that  there  was  no  way  for  me  to  know  I 
had  faith  but  by  trying  to  work  some  miracles,  urging 
those  scriptures  that  seem  to  look  that  way  for  enforcing 
and  strengthening  his  temptation.  Nay,  one  day,  as  I 
was  between  Elstow  and  Bedford,  the  temptation  was 
hot  upon  me  to  try  if  I  had  faith  by  doing  some  miracle, 
wWch  miracle  at  this  time  was  this  :  I  must  say  to  the 
puddles  that  were  in  the  horse-pads,  Be  dry,  and  to  the 
dry  places,  Be  you  puddles  And  truly  one  time  I  was 
going  to  say  so  indeed  ;  but  just  as  I  was  about  to 
speak,  this  thought  came  into  my  mind,  "  But  go  under 
yonder  hedge  and  pray  first  that  God  would  make  you 
able,"  But  when  I  had  concluded  to  pray,  this  came  hot 
upon  me,  that  if  I  pi^ayed,  and  came  again  and  tried  to 
do  it,  and  yet  did  nothing  notwithstanding,  then  to  be 
sure  I  had  no  faith,  but  was  a  castaway  and  lost ;  nay, 
thought  I,  if  it  be  so,  I  will  not  try  yet,  but  will  stay  a 
little  longer  ;  so  I  continued  at  a  great  loss,  for  I  thought 
if  they  only  had  faith  which  coultl  do  such  wondei-ful 
things,  then  I  concluded  that  for  the  present  I  neither  had 
it,  nor  yet  for  the  time  to  come  was  ever  like  to  have  it. 
Thus  1  was  tossed  between  the  devil  and  my  own  igno 
ranee,  and  so  perplexed,  especially  at  some  times,  that  I 
could  not  tell  what  to  do. 


20  BUNYAN'S  LIFE. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

About  this  time  tlio  state  and  happiness  of  these  poor 
people  at  Bedford  were  thus  in  a  kind  of  vision  presented 
to  me.  I  saw  as  if  they  were  on  tlie  sunny  side  of  some 
hig'h  mountain,  there  refresliing  themselves  with  the 
pleasant  beams  of  the  sun,  wliile  I  was  shivering  and 
shrinking  in  tlie  cold,  afflicted  with  frost,  snow,  and  dark 
clouds.  ]\[ethought  also  between  me  and  tlum  I  saw 
a  wall  that  did  compass  about  this  mounta'n.  Now 
through  this  wall  my  soul  did  greatly  desira  to  pass, 
concluding  that  if  I  could  I  would  even  go  inio  the  very 
midst  of  them,  and  there  also  comfoi't  mysflf  with  the 
heat  of  their  sun.  About  this  wall  I  bethought  m^ieelf 
to  go  again  and  again,  still  prying  as  I  went  to  sec  if  I 
could  find  some  way  or  passage  by  which  I  might  enter 
therein,  but  none  could  I  find  for  some  time.  At  the  last 
I  saw  as  it  were  a  narrow  gap,  like  a  little  doorway  in 
the  wall,  through  which  I  attempted  to  pass.  Now  the 
passage  being  very  strait  and  narrow,  I  made  many 
efforts  to  get  in,  but  all  in  vaifi,  even  until  I  was  well- 
nigh  quite  beat  out  by  striving  to  get  in ;  at  last,  with 
great  striving,  methought  I  at  first  did  get  in  my  head, 
and  after  that,  by  a  sidelong  striving,  my  shoulders  and 
my  whole  body  ;  then  I  was  exceeding  glad,  and  went 
and  sat  down  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  so  was  comfort- 
ed with  the  light  and  heat  of  their  sun. 

Now  this  mountain  and  wall  were  thus  made  out  to 
me.  The  mountain  signified  the  church  of  the  living 
God  ;  the  sun  that  shone  thereon,  the  comfortable  shin- 
ing of  his  merciful  face  on  them  that  were  therein :  the 
wall  I  thought  was  the  wall  that  did  make  separation 
between  Christians  and  the  world  ;  and  the  gap  that  was 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  zl 

ill  the  wail  I  tliouglit  was  J(>siis  Christ,  wlio  is  tlio  way 
to  God  the  Father.  John  14  :  G  ;  Matt.  7  :  14.  But  for- 
asnuicli  as  tlie  passage  was  wonderful  narrow,  even  so 
narrow  that  I  could  not  but  with  great  difficulty  enter 
in  thereat,  it  showed  me  that  none  could  enter  into  life 
but  those  that  were  in  downright  earnest,  and  unless 
also  they  left  that  wicked  world  behind  them,  for  hei'c 
was  only  room  for  body  and  soul,  but  not  for  body  and 
soul  and  sin.  This  resemblance  abode  upon  my  spirit 
many  days,  all  whicli  time  I  saw  myself  in  a  forlorn  and 
sad  condition,  but  yet  was  provoked  to  a  vehement  hun- 
ger and  desire  to  be  one  of  that  aumber  that  did  sit  in 
the  sunshine.  Now  also  would  I  pray  wherever  I  was, 
whether  at  home  or  abroad,  in  house  or  field  ;  and  would 
also  often,  with  lifting  up  of  heart,  sing  tliat  of  the  fifty- 
first  Psalm,  "0  Lord,  consider  my  distress,"  for  as  yet  I 
knew  not  where  it  was. 

Neither  as  yet  could  I  attain  to  any  comfortable  per- 
suasion that  I  had  faith  in  Christ ;  but  instead  of  having 
satisfaction  here,  I  bea;'^n  to  find  my  soul  to  be  assault- 
ed with  fresh  doubts  about  my  future  happiness,  espe- 
cially with  such  as  these :  Whether  I  was  elected.  But 
how  if  the  day  of  grace  should  be  past  and  gone  ?  By 
these  two  temptations  I  was  very  much  afflicted  and 
disquieted,  sometimes  by  one  and  sometimes  by  the  other 
of  them. 

And  first,  to  speak  of  that  about  my  questioning  my 
election,  I  found  at  this  time  that  tiiough  I  was  in  a  flame 
to  find  the  way  to  heaven  and  glory,  and  though  noth- 
ing could  beat  me  off  from  this,  yet  this  question  did  s  > 
offend  and  discourage  me  that  I  was,  especially  sonio- 
times,  as  if  the  very  strengtii  of  my  l)ody  also  had  been 
taken  away  by  the  force  and  power  theretif.  This  scrip- 
ture did  also  seem  to  me  to  trample  upon  all  my  desires  : 
"It  is  not  of  liim  that  willflh,  nor  of  him  that  runneth, 


28  .  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

but  of  God  that  showetli  mci-cy."  With  tliis  scripture  I 
could  not  tell  what  to  do,  for  I  evidently  saw,  uidess  the 
great  God  of  his  infinite  grace  and  bounty  had  volunta- 
rily chosen  me  to  be  a  vessel  of  merc}^  though  I  should 
desire  and  long  and  labor  until  my  heart  did  break,  no 
good  could  come  of  it.  Therefore  this  would  stick  with 
me  :  How  can  you  tell  that  you  are  elected  ?  And  what,; 
if  you  are  not  ?  How  then  ?  0  Lord,  thought  I,  what  if. 
I  am  not  indeed  ?  It  may  be  you  are  not,  said  the  tempt- 
er. It  may  be  so  indeed,  thought  I.  Why  then,  said 
Satan,  j^ou  had  as  good  leave  off  and  strive  no  further ; 
for  if  indeed  you  are  not  elected  and  chosen  of  God, 
there  is  no  hope  of  your  being  saved,  for  "it  is  not  of 
him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God 
that  showeth  mercy."  Rom.  9:16.  By  these  things  I 
was  driven  to  my  wits'  end,  not  knowing  what  to  say  or 
how  to  answer  these  temptations.  Indeed,  I  little  thought 
that  Satan  had  thus  assaulted  me,  but  thought  it  was 
my  own  prudence  thus  to  start  the  question  :  for  that 
the  elect  only  obtained  eternal  life,  that  I  without  scru- 
ple did  heartily  close  withal ;  but  that  myself  was  one 
of  them,  there  lay  the  question. 

Thus  therefore  for  several  days  I  was  greatly  assault- 
ed and  perplexed,  and  was  often,  when  I  had  been  walk- 
ing, ready  to  sink  where  I  went  with  faintness  in  my 
mind ;  but  one  day,  after  I  had  been  so  many  weeks 
oppressed  and  cast  down  therewith,  as  I  was  now  quite 
giving  up  the  ghost  of  all  my  hopes  of  ever  attaining 
life,  that  sentence  fell  with  M'eight  upon  my  spirit: 
"  Look  at  tlie  generations  of  old,  and  see  ;  did  ever  any 
trust  in  God,  and  were  confounded?"  at  wliich  I  was 
greatly  enlightened  and  encouraged  in  my  soul,  for  thus 
at  that  very  instant  it  was  expounded  to  me  :  "Begin  at 
the  beginning  of  Genesis,  and  read  to  the  end  of  the 
Hevelation,  and  see  if  you  can  find  tliat  there  was  ever 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  20 

any  that  trnstoil  in  llic  Lord  and  was  confounded."  So 
coming  liomc,  I  presently  went  to  my  Bible  to  sec  if  I 
could  find  that  saying-,  not  doubting  but  to  find  it  pres- 
ently, for  it  was  so  fresh  and  with  such  strength  and 
comfort  on  my  spirit,  that  it  was  as  if  it  talked  with* 
me.  Well,  I  looked,  but  found  it  not,  only  it  abode  upon 
me.  Then  did  I  ask,  first  this  good  man  and  then  anoth- 
er, if  they  knew  where  it  was,  but  they  knew  no  such 
place.  At  this  I  wondered  that  such  a  sentence  should 
so  suddenly  and  with  such  comfort  and  strength  seize 
and  abide  upon  my  heart,  and  yet  that  none  could  find  it, 
for  I  doubted  not  but  that  it  was  in  the  holy  Scriptures. 
Thus  I  continued  above  a  year,  and  could  not  find  tht 
place  ;  but  at  last,  casting  my  eye  upon  the  Apocryphal 
books,  I  found  it  in  Ecclesiasticus,  2:10.  This  at  the 
first  did  somewhat  daunt  me ;  but  because  by  this  time 
I  had  got  more  experience  of  the  love  and  kindness  of 
God,  it  troubled  me  the  less,  especially  when  I  consid- 
ered that  though  it  was  not  in  those  texts  that  we  call 
holy  and' canonical,  yet,  forasmuch  as  this  sentence  was 
the  sum  and  substance  of  many  of  the  promises,  it  was 
my  duty  to  take  the  comfort  of  it ;  and  I  bless  God  for 
that  word,  for  it  was  of  good  to  me  :  that  word  doth  still 
ofttimes  shine  before  my  face. 

After  this  that  other  doubt  did  come  with  strength 
upon  me  :  But  how  if  the  day  of  grace  should  be  past 
and  gone  ?  How  if  you  have  overstood  the  time  of 
mercy  ?  Now  I  remember  that  one  day  as  I  was  walk- 
ing in  the  country,  I  Avas  much  in  the  thoughts  of  this  : 
But  how  if  the  day  of  grace  is  past  ?  And  to  aggravate 
my  trouble,  the  tempter  presented  to  my  mind  those 
good  people  of  Bedford,  and  suggested  thus  unto  me : 
that  these  being  converted  already,  they  were  all  that 
God  would  save  in  those  parts,  and  that  I  came  too  late, 
for  these  had  got  the  blessing  ]ief(M-e  I  came.     Now  was 


30  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

I  in  great  distress,  thinking  in  very  deed  that  this  might 
well  be  so  ;  wherefore  I  went  up  and  down  bemoaning 
my  sad  condition,  counting  myself  far  worse  than  a  thou- 
^sand  fools  for  standing  off  thus  long,  and  spending  so 
many  years  in  sin  as  I  had  done,  still  crying  out,  Oh 
that  I  had  turned  sooner  ;  Oh  that  I  had  turned  seven 
years  ago.  It  made  me  also  angry  with  myself  to  think 
that  I  should  have  no  more  wit  but  to  trifle  away  my 
time  till  my  soul  and  heaven  were  lost. 

But  when  I  had  been  long  vexed  with  this  fear,  and 
was  scarce  able  to  take  one  step  more,  just  about  the 
same  place  where  I  received  my  other  encouragement, 
these  words  broke  in  upon  my  mind:  "Compel  them  to 
come  in,  that  my  house  may  be  filled ;  and  yet  there  is 
room."  Luke  14  :  22.  These  words,  but  especially 
those,  "  and  yet  there  is  room,"  were  sweet  words  to  me, 
for  truly  I  thought  that  by  them  I  saw  there  was  place 
enough  in  heaven  for  me  ;  and  moreover,  that  when  tlie 
Lord  Jesus  did  speak  these  words,  he  then  did  think  of 
me,  and  that  he,  knowing  that  the  time  would  come  that 
I  should  be  afflicted  with  fear  that  there  was  no  place 
left  for  me  in  his  bosom,  did  before  speak  this  word,  and 
leave  it  upon  record,  that  I  rnight  find  help  thex-eby 
against  this  vile  temptation.  This  I  then  verily  believ- 
ed. In  the  light  and  encouragement  of  this  word  I  went 
for  some  time  ;  and  the  comfort  was  the  more  when  I 
thought  that  the  Lord  Jesus  should  think  on  me  so  long 
ago,  and  that  he  should  speak  those  words  on  purpose 
for  my  sake,  for  I  did  think  verily  that  he  did  on  purpose 
speak  them  to  encourage  me  withal. 

But  I  was  not  without  my  temptations  to  go  back 
again — temptations,  I  say,  both  from  Satan,  mine  own 
heart,  and  carnal  acquaintance  ;  but  I  thank  God  these 
were  outweighed  by  that  soi;nd  sense  of  death  and  of 
the  day  of  judgment  which  abode  as  it  were  continually 


OK   GRACE  ABOUNDING.  31 

in  my  view.  I  would  often  also  think  of  Nebtichadnez- 
zar,  of  whom  it  was  said  he  had  given  him  all  the  king- 
doms of  the  earth.  Dan.  5  :  18,  19.  Yet,  thought  I,  if 
this  great  man  had  all  his  portion  in  this  world,  one  hour 
in  hell-firc  would  make  him  forget  all.  This  considera- 
tion was  a  great  help  to  me, 

I  was  almost  made  about  this  time  to  see  something 
concerning  the  beasts  that  Moses  counted  clean  and  un- 
clean, I  thought  those  beasts  were  types  of  men  :  the 
clean,  types  of  them  that  were  the  people  of  God  ;  but 
the  unclean,  types  of  such  as  were  children  of  the  wick- 
ed one.  Now  I  read  that  the  clean  beast  chewed  the 
cud  ;  that  is,  thought  I,  they  show  us  we  must  feed  upon 
the  word  of  God.  They  also  parted  the  hoof.  I  thought 
that  signified  we  must  part,  if  we  would  be  saved,  with 
the  ways  of  ungodly  men.  And  also,  in  further  reading 
about  them,  I  found  that  though  we  did  chew  the  cud  as 
the  hare,  yet  if  we  walked  with  claws  like  a  dog,  or  if 
we  did  part  the  hoof  like  the  swine,  yet  if  we  did  not 
chew  the  cud  as  the  shqpp,  we  are  still  for  all  that  but 
unclean ;  for  I  thought  the  hare  to  be  a  type  of  those 
that  talk  of  the  word,  yet  walk  in  the  ways  of  sin,  and 
that  the  swine  was  like  him  that  parteth  with  his  out- 
ward pollution,  but  still  wanteth  the  word  of  faith,  with- 
out which  there  would  be  no  way  of  salvation,  let  a  man 
be  ever  so  devout.  Deut.  ch.  14,  After  this  I  found,  by 
reading  the  word,  that  those  that  must  be  glorified  with 
Christ  in  another  world,  must  be  called  by  him  here — 
called  to  the  partaking  of  a  share  in  his  word  and  right- 
eousness, and  to  the  comforts  and  first-fruits  of  his  Spir- 
it, and  to  a  peculiar  interest  in  all  those  heavenly  things 
which  do  indeed  prepare  the  soul  for  that  rest  and  house 
of  glory  which  is  in  heaven  above. 

Here  again  I  was  at  a  very  great  stand,  not  know- 
ing what  to  do,  fearing  I  was  not  called  ;  for,  thought  I, 


32  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

if  I  be  not  called,  what  then  can  do  mc  g-ood?  None 
but  those  who  are  effectually  called,  inherit  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  But  Oh,  how  I  now  loved  those  words  that 
spoke  of  a  Christian's  calling  ;  as  when  the  Lord  said  to 
one,  "  Follow  me ;"  and  to  another,  "  Come  after  me ;" 
and  Oh,  thought  I,  that  he  would  say  so  to  mo  too  ;  how 
g-ladly  would  I  run  after  him.  I  cannot  now  express 
with  what  longings  and  breathings  in  my  soul  I  cried  to 
Christ  to  call  me.  Thus  I  continued  for  a  time  all  on  a 
flame  to  be  converted  to  Jesus  Christ ;  and  did  also  see 
at  that  day  such  glory  in  a  converted  state,  that  I  could 
not  be  contented  without  a  share  therein.  Gold  !  could  it 
have  been  gotten  for  gold,  what  would  I  have  given  for 
it  1  Had  I  had  a  whole  world,  it  had  all  gone  ten  thou- 
sand times  over  for  this,  that  my  soul  might  have  been 
in  a  converted  state.  How  lovely  now  was  every  one  in 
niy  eyes  that  I  thought  to  be  a  converted  man  or  wom- 
an. They  shone  ;  tliey  walked  like  a  people  that  carried 
the  broad  seal  of  heaven  aboul  them.  Oh,  I  saw  the  lot 
was  fallen  to  them  in  pleasant  places,  and  that  they  had 
a  goodly  heritage.     Psalm  IG  :  6. 

But  that  which  made  me  sick  was  that  of  Christ  in 
Mark,  "He  went  up  into  a  mountain,  and  called  to  him 
whom  he  would,  and  they  came  unto  him."  Mark  3:13. 
This  scripture  made  me  faint  and  fear,  yet  it  kindled  a 
fire  in  my  soul.  That  which  made  me  fear  was  this,  lest 
Christ  should  have  no  liking  to  me,  for  he  called  whom 
he  would.  But  Oh,  the  glory  that  I  saw  in  that  condition 
did  still  so  engage  my  heart,  that  I  could  seldom  read  of 
any  that  Christ  did  call,  but  I  presently  wished,  Would 
that  I  had  been  in  their  clothes  ;  would  that  I  had  been 
born  Peter  ;  would  that  I  had  been  born  John  ;  or  would 
that  I  had  been  by  and  heard  him  when  he  called  them ; 
how  would  I  have  cried,  0  Lord,  call  me  also.  But  Oh, 
I  feared  he  would  not  call  me. 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  33 

And  truly  the  Lord  let  mo  go  tlms  many  months 
together,  and  sliowcd  me  nothing,  either  that  I  was 
already  or  should  be  called  hereafter ;  but  at  last,  after 
much  time  spent  and  many  groans  to  God  that  I  might 
be  made  partaker  of  the  holy  and  heavenly  calling,  that 
word  came  in  upon  me  :  "  I  will  cleanse  their  blood  that 
I  have  not  cleansed  ;  for  the  Lord  dwelleth  in  Zion."  Joel 
3  :  21.  These  words,  I  thought,  were  sent  to  encourage 
me  to  wait  still  upon  God,  and  signified  unto  me,  that  if 
I  were  not  ali-eady,  yet  the  time  might  come  when  T 
might  be  in  truth  converted  unto  Christ. 

About  this  time  I  began  to  break  my  mind  to  those 
poor  people  in  Bedford,  and  to  tell  them  my  condition  ; 
which  when  they  had  heard,  they  told  Mr.  GifTord  of  me, 
who  himself  also  took  occasion  to  talk  with  me,  and  was 
willing  to  be  well  persuaded  of  me,  though,  I  think,  from 
little  grounds.  But  he  invited  me  to  his  house,  where  I 
should  hear  him  confer  with  others  about  the  dealings  of 
God  with  their  souls  ;  from  all  which  I  still  received  more 
conviction,  and  from  that  time  began  to  see  something 
of  the  vanity  and  inward  wretchedness  of  my  wicked 
heart,  for  as  yet  I  knew  no  great  matter  therein  ;  but 
now  it  began  to  be  discovered  unto  me,  and  also  to  work 
at  a  rate  it  never  did  befor^. 

Now  I  evidently  found  that  lusts  and  corruptions  put 
forth  themselves  within  me  in  wicked  thoughts  and  de- 
sires, which  I  did  not  regard  before  ;  my  desires  also  for 
heaven  and  life  began*  to  fail.  I  found  also,  that  where- 
as before  my  soul  was  full  of  longing  after  God,  now  it 
began  to  hanker  after  every  foolish  vanity ;  yea,  my' 
heart  would  not  be  moved  to  mind  that  which  was  good ; 
it  began  to  be  careless  both  of  my  soul  and  heaven.  It 
would  now  continually  hang  back,  both  to  and  in  every 
duty,  and  was  as  a  clog  upon  the  leg  of  a  bird  to  hinder 
him  from  flying.  Nay,  thought  I,  now  I  grow  worse  and 
2* 


34  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

worse — now  I  am  furthei*  from  conversion  than  ever  I 
was  before  ;  wherefore  I  began  to  sink  greatly  in  my 
souly  and  began  to  entertain  such  discouragement  in  my 
heart  as  laid  me  as  low  as  hell.  If  now  I  should  have 
burned  at  the  stake  I  could  not  believe  that  Christ  had 
a  love  for  me  ;  alas,  I  could  neither  hear  him,  nor  see 
him,  nor  savor  any  of  his  things.  I  was  driven  as  with 
a  tempest ;  my  heart  would  be  unclean,  and  the  Canaan- 
ites  would  dwell  in  the  land. 

Sometimes  I  would  tell  my  condition  to  the  people  of 
God,  which  when  they  heard  they  would  pity  me,  and 
would  tell  me  of  the  promises  ;  but  they  had  as  good 
have  told  me  that  I  must  reach  the  sun  with  my  finger, 
as  have  bidden  me  receive  or  rely  upon  the  promises, 
and  as  soon  I  should  have  done  it.  All  my  sense  and 
feeling  were  against  me,  and  I  saw  I  had  a  heart  that 
would  sin,  and  that  lay  under  a  law  that  would  condemn. 
These  things  have  often  made  me  think  of  the  child 
which  the  father  brought  to  Christ,  who,  while  he  was 
yet  coming  to  him,  was  thrown  down  by  the  devil,  and 
also  so  rent  and  torn  by  him  that  he  lay  and  wallowed 
foaming.     Mark  9  :  20  ;  Luke  9  :  42. 

Further,  in  these  days  I  would  find  my  heart  to  shut 
itself  up  against  the  Lord  anjj  against  his  holy  word.  I 
have  found  my  unbelief  to  set  as  it  were  the  shoulder  to 
the  door  to  keep  him  out,  and  that  too  even  then  when 
I  have  with  many  a  bitter  sigh  cried,  Good  Lord,  break 
it  open  ;  Lord,  break  these  gates  of  brass,  and  cut  these 
bars  of  iron  asunder.  Psa.  101:16.  Yet  that  word 
would  sometimes  create  in  my  heart  a  peaceful  pause,  i 
"  I  girded  thee,  though  thou  hast  not  known  me."  Isa. 
45  :  5.  But  all  this  while,  as  to  the  act  of  sinning,  I  was 
never  more  tender  than  now ;  my  hinder  parts  were  in- 
ward ;  I  durst  not  take  a  pin  or  stick,  though  but  so  big 
as  a  straw,  for  my  conscience  now  was  sore,  and  would 


oil  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  35 

smart  at  every  touch.  I  could  not  now  tell  how  to  speak 
my  words,  for  fear  I  should  misplace  them.  Oli,  how 
cautiously  did  I  then  go,  in  all  I  did  or  said.  I  found  my- 
self as  in  a  miry  bog,  that  shook  if  1  did  but  stir,  and 
was  as  there  left  both  of  God  and  Christ  and  the  Spirit, 
and  all  good  things. 

But  I  observed,  though  I  was  such  a  great  sinner 
before  conversion,  yet  God  never  much  charged  the  guilt 
of  the  sins  of  my  ignorance  upon  me,  only  he  showed  me 
I  was  lost  if  I  had  not  Christ,  because  I  had  been  a  sin- 
ner. 1  saw  that  I  wanted  a  perfect  righteousness  to 
present  me  without  fault  before  God,  and  this  righteous- 
ness was  nowhere  to  be  found  but  in  the  person  of 
Jesus  Christ.  But  my  original  and  inward  pollution, 
that,  that  was  my  plague  and  aflQiction  ;  that  I  saw  at  a 
dreadful  rate  always  putting  forth  itself  within  me  ;  that 
I  had  the  guilt  of  to  amazement ;  by  reason  of  that,  I 
was  more  loathsome  in  mine  own  eyes  than  a  toad,  and 
I  thought  I  was  so  in  God's  eyes  too.  Sin  and  corrup- 
tion, I  said,  would  as  naturally  bubble  out  of  my  heart, 
as  water  would  bubble  out  of  a  fountain.  I  thought 
now  that  every  one  had  a  better  heart  than  I  had.  I 
could  have  changed  heart  with  any  body.  I  thought 
none  but  the  devil  himself  could  equal  me  for  inward 
wick(>dness  and  pollution  of  mind.  I  fell  therefore,  at 
the  sight  of  my  own  vileness,  deeply  into  despair  ;  for  I 
concluded  that  this  condition  that  I  was  in  could  not 
stand  with  a  state  of  grace.  Sure,  thought  I,  I  am 
forsaken  of  God ;  sure  I  am  given  up  to  the  devil,  and 
to  a  reprobate  mind.  And  thus  I  continued  for  a  long 
while,  even  for  some  years  together. 

While  1  was  thus  afflicted  witli  the  fears  of  my  own 
damnation,  there  were  two  things  would  make  me  won- 
der. The  one  was,  when  I  saw  old  people  hunting  after 
the  things  of  this  life  as  if  they  should  live  here  always; 


36  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

the  other  was,  when  I  found  professors  much  distressed 
and  cast  down  when  they  met  with  outward  losses,  as 
of  husband,  wife,  child,  etc.  Lord,  thought  T,  what  ado 
is  here  about  such  little  things  as  these.  What  seeking 
after  carnal  things  by  some,  and  what  grief  in  others  for 
the  loss  of  them.  If  they  so  much  labor  after  and  shed 
so  many  tears  for  the  things  of  this  present  life,  how  am 
I  to  be  bemoaned,  pitied,  and  prayed  for.  My  soul  is 
dying,  my  soul  is  damned.  Were  my  soul  but  in  a  good 
condition,  and  were  I  but  sure  of  it,  ah,  how  rich  should 
•I  esteem  myself,  though  blessed  but  with  bread  and 
water.  I  should  count  those  but  small  afflictions,  and 
should  bear  them  as  little  burdens.  A  wounded  spirit 
who  can  bear  ? 

And  though  I  was  much  troubled  and  tossed  and 
afflicted  with  the  sight  and  sense  and  terror  of  my  own 
wickedness,  yet  I  was  afraid  to  let  this  sight  and  sense 
go  quite  off  my  mind  ;  for  I  found  that  unless  guilt  of 
conscience  was  taken  off  the  right  way,  that  is,  by  the 
blood  of  Christ,  a  man  grew  rather  worse  for  the  loss  of 
his  trouble  of  mind  than  before.  Wherefore,  if  my  guilt 
lay  hard  upon  me,  then  would  I  cry  that  the  blood  of 
Christ  might  take  it  off ;  and  if  it  was  going  off  without 
it,  for  tlie  cense  of  sin  would  be  sometimes  as  if  it  would 
die  and  go  quite  away,  then  I  would  also  strive  to  fetch 
it  upon  my  heart  again,  by  bringing  the  punishment  of 
sin  in  hell-fire  upon  my  spirit,  and  would  cry,  Lord,  let 
it  not  go  off  my  heart  but  in  the  right  way,  by  the  blood 
of  Christ  and  the  application  of  thy  mercy  through  him 
to  my  soul,  for  that  scripture  did  lay  much  upon  me : 
"Without  the  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission." 
Heb.  9  :  22.  And  that  which  made  me  the  more  afraid 
of  this  was,  because  I  had  seen  some,  who  though  when 
they  were  \mder  the  wounds  of  conscience  would  cry 
and  pray,  yet  feeling  rather  present  ease  for  their  trouble 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  37 

tlian  pardon  for  their  sins,  cared  not  liow  they  lost  tlicir 
guilt,  so  they  got  it  out  of  their  minds.  Now,  having  it 
got  off  the  wrong  way,  it  was  not  sanctified  unto  them  ; 
hut  they  grew  harder  and  blinder  and  more  wicked  after 
tliei'r  trouble.  This  made  mc  afraid,  and  made  me  cry  to 
God  the  more  that  it  might  not  be  so  with  me.  And 
now  I  was  sorry  that  God  had  made  mc  man,  for  I  feared 
I  was  a  reprobate.  I  counted  man  unconvertedt  as  the 
most  doleful  of  all  creatures.  Thus  being  afflicted  and 
tossed  about  my  sad  condition,  I  counted  myself  alone 
and  above  the  most  of  men  unblessed. 

Yea,  I  thought  it  impossible  that  ever  I  should  attain 
to  so  much  godliness  of  heart  as  to  thank  God  that  Ik; 
had  made  me  a  man.  Man  indeed  is  the  most  noble  by 
creation  of  all  creatures  in  the  visible  world  ;  but  by  sin 
he  has  made  himself  the  most  ignoble.  The  beasts, 
birds,  fishes,  I  have  blessed  their  condition,  fen'  they  had 
not  a  sinful  nature ;  they  were  not  obnoxious  to  the 
wrath  of  God  ;  they  were  not  to  go  to  hell-fire  after 
death.  I  could  therefore  have  rejoiced  had  my  condition 
been  as  any  of  theirs. 


38  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 


CHAPTER  V. 

In  this  condition  I  wont  a  great  while  ;  but  when  tlie 
conilbrting  time  was  come,  I  heard  one  preach  a  sermon 
on  thes6  words  in  the  Song,  "Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my 
love  ;  behold,  thou  art  fair."  Song  4:1.  But  at  that 
time  he  made  these  two  words,  "my  love,"  his  chief  sub- 
ject-matter, from  which,  after  he  had  a  little  opened  the 
text,  he  drew  these  several  conclusions :  1.  That  the 
church,  and  so  every  saved  soul,  is  Christ's  love  when 
loveless  ;  2.  Christ's  love  without  a  cause  ;  3.  Christ's 
love  which  hath  been  hated  of  the  world  ;  4.  Christ's 
love  when  under  temptation  and  under  desertion  ;  5. 
Christ's  love  from  first  to  last.  But  I  got  nothing  by 
what  he  said  at  present,  only  when  he  came  to  the  appli- 
cation of  the  fourth  particular,  this  was  the  word  he 
said :  "  If  it  be  so  that  the  saved  soul  is  Christ's  love 
when  under  temptation  and  desertion,  then,  poor  tempt- 
ed soul,  when  thou  art  assaulted  and  afflicted  with  temp- 
tations and  the  hidings  of  his  face,  yet  think  on  these 
two  words,  '  my  love,'  still." 

So  as  I  was  coming  home,  these  words  came  again 
into  my  thoughts  ;  and  I  w(;ll  remember,  as  they  came 
in,  I  said  thus  in*my  heart.  What  shall  I  get  by  thinking 
on  these  two  words  ?  This  thought  had  no  sooner  passed 
through  my  heart,  but  these  words  began  thus  to  kindle 
in  my  spirit :  "  Thou  art  my  love,  thou  art  my  love," 
twenty  times  together ;  and  still  as  they  ran  in  my  mind 
they  waxed  stronger  and  warmer,  and  began  to  make 
me  look  up ;  but  being  as  yet  between  hope  and  fear,  I 
still  replied  in  my  heart.  But  is  it  true?  but  is  it  true? 
At  which  that  sentence  fell  upon  me,  "He  wist  not  that 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  39 

it  was  true  wliicli  was  clone  unto  liim  of  the  angel." 
Acts  12:9. 

Tlicu  I  began  to  give  jjace  to  the  word,  wliicli  witli 
power  did  over  and  over  make  this  joyful  sound  witliin 
my  soirl,  "Thou  art  my  love,  thou  art  my  love,"  and  noth- 
ing shall  separate  thee  from  my  love.  And  with  that  my 
heart  was  filled  full  of  comfort  and  hope,  and  now  I 
could  believe  that  my  sins  would  be  forgiven  me  ;  yea, 
1  was  now  so  taken  with  the  love  and  mercy  of  God,  that 
I  remember  1  could  not  tell  how  to  contain  till  I  got 
home.  I  tliought  I  could  have  spoken  of  his  love  and 
have  told  of  his  mercy  to  me,  even  to  the  verj"-  crows 
that  sat  upon  the  plougiied  lands  before  me,  liad  they 
been  capable  of  understanding  me  ;  wherefore  I  said  in 
my  soul  with  much  gladness,  "  Well,  would  I  had  a  pen 
and  ink  here,  I  would  write  this  down  before  I  go  any 
further ;  for  surely  I  shall  not  forget  this,  forty  years 
hence  ;"  but  alas,  within  less  than  forty  days  I  began  to 
question  all  again,  which  made  me  begin  to  question  all 
still. 

Yet  still  at  times  I  was  liclped  to  believe  that  it  was 
a  true  manifestation  of  grace  unto  my  soul,  though  I 
had  lost  much  of  the  life  and  savor  of  it.  Xow  about  a 
week  or  a  fortnight  after  this  I  was  much  followed  by 
this  scripture :  "  Simon,  Simon,  behold  Satan  hath  desired 
to  have  you."  Luke  22:31.  And  sometimes  it  would 
sound  so  loud  within  me,  yea,  and  as  it  were  call  so 
strongly  after  me,  that  once  above  all  the  rest  I  turned 
my  head  over  my  shoulder,  thinking  verily  that  some 
man  had  behind  me  called  me.  Being  at  a  gi-eat  dis<>' 
tance,  mcthought  he  called  so  loud,  it  came,  as  I  have 
thought  since,  to  stir  me  up  to  prayer  and  to  watchful- 
ness. It  came  to  acquaint  me  that  a  cloud  and  a  storm 
were  coming  down  upon  me  ;  but  I  understood  it  not. 
Also,  as  1  remember,  that  time  that  it  called  to  me  so 


40  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

loud  was  tlic  last  time  tliat  it  soiindecl  in  mine  ears  ;  but 
motliinks  I  hear  still  with  what  a  loud  voice  these  words, 
"Simon,  Simon,"  sounded  in, mine  ears.  I  thought  ver- 
ily, as  I  have  told  you,  that  somebody  had  called  after 
me  that  was  half  a  mile  behind  me ;  and  althoug"h  that 
was  not  my  name,  yet  it  made  me  suddenly  look  behind 
mo,  believing  that  ho  that  called  so  loud  meant  me. 

But  so  foolish  Avas  I  and  ignorant,  that  I  knew  not 
the  reason  of  this  sound,  which,  as  I  did  both  see  and 
feel  soon  after,  was  sent  from  heaven  as  an  alarm  to 
awaken  me  to  provide  for  what  was  coming,  only  I 
would  muse  and  wonder  'in  my  mind  to  think  what 
should  be  the  reason  of  this  scripture,  and  that  at  this 
rate  so  often  and  .«o  loud  it  shoiild  still  be  sounding  and 
rattling  in  my  ears  ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  I  soon  after 
perceived  the  end  of  God  thei'ein  ;  for  about  the  space  of 
a  montli  aftei",  a  very  great  storm  came  down  upon  me, 
which  handled  me  twenty  times  worse  than  all  I  had 
met  with  before.  It  came  stealing  upon  me,  now  by 
one  piece  and  then  by  another.  First,  all  my  comfort 
was  taken  from  me  ;  then  darkness  seized  upon  me  ; 
after  which  whole  floods  of  blasphemies,  both  against 
God,  Christ,  and  the  Scriptures,  were  poi\red  upon  my 
spirit,  to  my  great  confusion  and  astonishment. 

These  blasphemous  thoughts  were  such  as  stirred  up 
questions  in  me  against  the  very  being  of  God  and  of 
his  only  beloved  Son,  as  whether  there  were  in  truth  a 
God  or  Christ,  and  whether  the  holy  Scriptures  were  not 
rather  a  fable  and  cunning  story,  than  the  holy  and  pure 
word  of  God.  The  tempter  would  also  much  assault  me 
with  this  :  "  How  can  you  tell  but  that  the  Turks  had  as 
good  scriptures  to  prove  their  Mahomet  the  Saviour  as 
we  have  to  prove  our  Jesus  ?  and,  could  I  think  that  so 
many  ten  thousands  in  so  many  countries  and  kingdoms 
should  be  without  the  knowledge  of  the  right  way  to 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  41 

heaven,  if  tiiere  were  indeed  a  heaven,  and  that  we  only, 
wlio  live  in  a  corner  of  the  earth,  should  alone  be  blessed 
therewitlj  ?  Every  one  doth  think  his  own  religion  light- 
est, Jews  and  Moors  and  Pagans  ;  and  how  if  all  our 
faith  and  Christ  and  Scriptures  should  be  but  a  think-so 
too  ?" 

Sometimes  I  have  endeavored  to  argue  against  these 
suggestions,  and  to  set  some  of  the  sentences  of  blessed 
Paul  against  them  ;  but  alas,  I  quickly  felt,  when  I  thus 
did,  such  arguings  as  these  would  return  again  upon  me  ; 
"  Though  we  made  so  great  a  matter  of  Paul  and  of  his 
words,  yet  how  could  I  tell  but  that  in  very  deed  he, 
being  a  subtle  and  cunning  man,  might  give  himself  up 
to  deceive  with  strong  delusions,  and  also  take  the  pains 
and  travail  to  undo  and  destroy  his  fellows  ?" 

These  suggestions,  with  many  others  which  at  this 
time  I  may  not  and  dare  not  utter,  neither  by  word  nor 
pen,  did  make  such  a  seizure  upon  my  spirit,  and  did  so 
overweigh  my  heart  both  with  their  number,  continu- 
ance, and  fiery  force,  that  I  felt  as  if  there  were  nothing 
else  but  these  from  morning  to  night  within  me,  and  as 
though  indeed  there  could  be  room  for  nothing  else  ;  and 
also  concluded  that  God  had  in  very  wrath  to  my  soul 
given  me  up  to  them,  to  be  carried  away  with  them  as 
Avith  a  mighty  whirlwind  ;  only  by  the  distaste  that 
they  gave  unto  my  spirit,  I  felt  there  was  something  in 
me  that  refused  to  embrace  them.  But  this  consider- 
ation I  then  only  had  when  God  gave  me  leave  to  swal- 
,low  my  spittle,  otherwise  the  noise  and  strength  and 
force  of  these  temptations  would  drown  and  overflow, 
and  as  it  were  bury  all  such  thoughts  or  the  remem- 
brance of  any  such  thing. 

While  I  was  in  this  temptation  I  often  found  my 
mind  suddenly  put  upon  it  to  curse  and  swear,  or  to 
speak  some  grievous  thing  against  God,  or  Christ  his 


42  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

Son,  or  of  the  Scriptures.  Now  1  tliought,  surely  I  am 
possessed  of  the  devil.  At  other  times,  again,  I  thought 
I  should  be  bereft  of  my  senses  ;  for  instead  of  lauding 
and  magnifying  God  the  Lord  with  others,  if  I  but  heard 
him  spoken  of,  presently  some  most  horrible  blasphe- 
mous thought  or  other  would  bolt  out  of  my  heart  against 
him ;  so  that  whether  I  did  think  that  God  was,  or  again 
did  think  there  was  no  such  thing,  no  love,  nor  peace, 
nor  gracious  disposition  could  I  feel  within  me. 

These  things  did  sink  me  into  very  deep  despair,  for 
I  concluded  that  such  things  could  not  possibly  be  found 
among  them  that  loved  God.  I  often,  when  these  temp- 
tations had  been  with  force  upon  me,  did  compare  myself 
to  the  case  of  a  child  whom  some  gipsy  hath  by  force 
took  up  in  her  arms,  and  is  carrying  from  friend  and 
country.  Kick  sometimes  I  did,  and  also  shriek  and 
cry,  but  yet  I  was  bound  in  the  wings  of  the  temptation, 
and  the  wind  would  carry  me  away.  I  thought  also  of 
Saul,  and  of  the  evil  spirit  that  did  possess  him,  and 
did  greatly  fear  that  my  condition  was  the  same  with 
his.     1  Sam.  16:14. 

In  these  days,  when  I  have  heard  others  talk  of  what 
was  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  then  would  the 
tempter  so  provoke  me  to  desire  to  sin  that  sin,  that  I 
was  as  if  I  could  not,  must  not,  neither  should  be  quiet 
until  I  had  committed  it.  Now  no  sin  would  serve  but 
that.  If  it  were  to  be  committed  by  the  speaking  of 
such  a  word,  then  I  have  been  as  if  my  mouth  would 
have  spoken  that  word,  whether  I  would  or  no ;  and  in 
so  strong  a  measure  was  this  temptation  upon  me,  that 
often  I  have  been  ready  to  clap  my  hands  under  my  chin 
to  hold  my  mouth  from  opening ;  and  to  that  end  also  I 
have  had  thoughts  at  other  times  to  leap  with  my  head 
downward  into  some  muck-hole  or  other,  to  keep  my 
mouth  from  speaking. 


oil  Gil  ACE  AI50UNDING.  43 

Now,  at>';iiii,  I  behold  the  condition  of  the  dog  and 
toad,  and  counted  the  slate  of  every  thing  tliat  God  had 
made  far  better  than  this  dreadful  state  of  mine  and  my 
companions.  Yea,  gladly  would  I  have  been  in  the  con- 
dition of  a  dog  or  horse,  for  I  knew  they  had  no  soul  to 
perish  under  the  everlasting  weight  of  hell  or  sin,  as 
mine  was  like  to  do.  Nay,  and  though  I  saw  this,  felt 
this,  and  was  broken  to  pieces  with  it,  yet  that  whicli 
added  to  my  sorrow  was,  that  I  could  not  find  that  with 
all  my  soul  I  did  desire  deliverance.  That  scripture  did 
also  tear  and  rend  my  soul  in  the  midst  of  these  distrac- 
tions :  "  Tlie  wicked  are  like  the  troubled  sea,  when  it 
cannot  rest,  whoso  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.  There 
is  no  peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked."   Isa.  57  :  20,  21. 

And  now  ni^'  heart  was  at  times  exceeding  hard.  If 
I  would  have  given  a  thousand  pounds  for  a  tear,  I  could 
uot  shed  one  ;  no,  nor  sometimes  scarce  desire  to  shed 
one.  I  was  much  dejected  to  think  that  this  should  be 
my  lot.  I  saw  some  could  mourn  and  lament  their  sin  ; 
and  others,  again,  could  rejoice  and  bless  God  for  Christ ; 
and  others,  again,  could  quietly  talk  of,  and  with  gladness 
remember  the  word  of  God,  while  I  only  was  in  the  storm 
or  tempest.  This  much  sunk  me.  I  thought  my  con- 
dition was  alone ;  I  would  therefore  much  bewail  my 
hard  hap ;  but  get  out  of  or  get  rid  erf  these  things  I 
could  not. 

While  this  temptation  las'cd,  which  was  about  a 
year,  I  could  attend  upon  none  of  the  ordinances  of  God 
but  with  sore  and  great  affliction ;  yea,  then  I  was  most 
distressed  with  blasphemies.  If  I  had  been  hearing  the 
word,  then  uncleanness,  blasphemies,  and  despair  would 
hold  me  a  captive  there.  If  I  had  been  reading,  then 
sometimes  I  had  sudden  thouglits  to  question  all  I  read  ; 
sometimes,  again,  my  mind  would  be  so  strangely  snatch- 
ed away  and  possessed  with  other  thing?,  that  I  have 


44  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

neither  known,  nor  regarded,  nor  remembered  so  much  as 
the  sentence  that  but  now  I  had  read. 

In  prayer  also  I  was  greatly  troubled  at  this  time : 
sometimes  I  thought  I  felt  Satan  behind  me  pull  my 
clothes  ;  he  would  be  also  continually  at  me  in  time  of 
prayer,  to  have  done  :  "Break  oif ;  make  haste  ;  you  have 
prayed  enough,  and  stay  no  longer ;"  still  drawing  my 
mind  away.  Sometimes  also  he  would  cast  in  such 
wicked  thoughts  as  these  :  that  I  must  pray  to  him,  or 
for  him.  I  have  thought  sometimes  of  that  "fall  down  ;" 
or,  "If  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me."  Matt. 
4  :  9.  Also  when,  because  I  have  had  wandering  thoughts 
in  the  time  of  this  duty,  I  have  labored  to  compose  my 
mind  and  fix  it  upon  God,  then  with  great  force  hath 
the  tempter  labored  to  distract  me  and  confound  me, 
and  to  turn  away  my  mind  by  presenting  to  my  heart 
and  fancy  the  form  of  a  bush,  a  bull,  a  besom,  or  the 
like,  as  if  I  should  pray  to  these.  To  these  he  would 
also,  at  some  times  especiall}'^,  so  hold  my  mind,  that  I 
was  as  if  I  could  think  of  nothing  else,  or  pray  to  noth- 
ing else  but  to  these,  or  such  as  they. 

Yet  at  times  I  would  have  some  strong  and  heart- 
affecting  apprehensions  of  God  and  the  reality  of  the 
truth  of  his  gospel ;  but  .Oh,  how  would  my  heart  at 
such  times  put  forth  itself  with  inexpressible  groanings  ! 
My  whole  soul  was  then  in  every  word.  I  would  cry 
with  pangs  after  God,  that  he  would  be  merciful  unto 
me ;  but  then  I  would  be  daunted  again  with  such  con- 
ceits as  these  :  I  would  think  that  God  did  mock  at  these 
my  prayers,  saying,  and  that  in  the  audience  of  the  holy 
angels,  "This  poor  simple  wretch  doth  hanker  after  me, 
as  if  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  my  mercy  but  to  bestow 
it  on  such  as  he.  Alas,  poor  soul,  how  art  thou  deceiv- 
ed. It  is  not  for  such  as  thee  to  have  favor  with  the 
Highest." 


OR  GRACE  AROlNDlNd.  4;") 

Then  liatli  the  tempter  come  upon  me  also  witli  such 
discourag-ements  as  these  :  "You  are  very  liot  for  mercy, 
but  I  will  cool  you  ;  this  frame  shall  not  last  always. 
Many  have  been  as  hot  as  you  for  a  time,  but  I  have 
quenched  their  zeal ;"  and  with  this,  such  and  such  who 
were  fallen  off  would  be  set  before  mine  eyes.  Then  T 
would  be  afraid  that  I  should  do  so  too  ;  but,  thought  I, 
I  am  glad  this  comes  into  my  mind.  Well,  I  will  watch, 
and  take  what  care  I  can.  "Though  j'ou  do,"  said  Satan, 
"  I  shall  be  too  hard  for  j^ou.  I  will  cool  you  insensibly, 
by  degrees,  by  little. and  little.  Wliat  care  I,"  saith  he, 
"though  I  be  scren  years  in  chilling  thy  heart,  if  I  can 
do  it  at  last  ?  Continual  rocking  will  lull  a  crying  child 
asleep.  I  will  ply  it  close,  but  I  will  have  mj^  end  ac- 
complished. Though  you  be  burning  hot  at  present,  I 
can  pull  3^ou  from  this  fire.  I  shall  have  you  cold  before 
it  be  long." 

These  things  brought  me  into  great  straits  ;  for  as  I 
at  present  could  not  find  myself  fit  for  present  death,  so 
I  thought,  to  live  long  would  make  me  yet  more  unfit,  for 
time  would  make  me  forget  all,  and  wear  even  the 
remembrance  of  the  evil  of  sin,  the  worth  of  heaven,  and 
the  need  I  had  of  the  blood  of  Christ  to  wash  me,  both 
out  of  mind  and  thought ;  but  I  thank  Christ  Jesus, 
these  things  did  not  at  present  make  me  slack  my  cry- 
ing, but  rather  did  put  me  more  upon  it,  like  her  who 
met  with  the  adulterer,  Deut.  22  :  27,  in  which  days  that 
was  a  good  word  to  me,  after  I  had  suffered  these  things 
a  while :  "  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death,  nor  life, 
nor  angels,  etc.,  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God, 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  Rom.  8  :  39.  And  now  I 
hoped  long  life  would  not  destroy  me,  nor  make  me  miss 
of  heaven. 

I  had  some  supports  in  this  temptation,  though  they 
Were  then  all  questioned  by  me.     That  in  Jer.  3  :  1,  was 


46  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

something;  to  mc  ;  and  so  was  the  consideration  of  verse 
four  of  that  chapter,  that  though  we  have  spoken  and 
done  as  evil  things  as  we  could,  yet  we  ghall  cry  unto 
God,  "My  Father,  thou  art  the  guide  of  my  youth,"  and 
shall  return  unto  him.  I  had  also  once  a  sweet  glance 
from  that  in  2  Cor.  5  :  21,  "For  he  hath  made  him  to  bo 
sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  miglit  be  made  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  him."  I  remember  that  one  day, 
as  I  was  sitting  in  a  neighbor's  house,  and  there  very 
sad  at  the  consideration  of  my  many  blasphemies,  and 
as  I  was  saying  in  my  mind,  "What  ground  have  I  to 
think  that  I,  who  have  been  so  vile  and  abominable, 
should  ever  inherit  eternal  life  T'  that  word  came  sud- 
denly upon  me:  "What  shall  we  say  to  these  things? 
If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?"  That  also 
was  a  help  unto  me:  "Because  I  live,  you  shall  live 
also."  But  these  words  were  but  hints,  touches,  and 
short  visits,  though  very  sweet  when  present,  only  they 
lasted  not,  but  like  Peter's  sheet,  cf  a  sudden  were 
caught  up  from  me  to  heaven  again.  Rom.  8:13;  John 
14:  19;  Acts  10:16. 

But  afterwards  the  Lord  did  more  fully  and  gracious- 
ly discover  himself  unto  me,  and  indeed  did  quite  not 
only  deliver  me  from  the  guilt  that  by  these  things  was 
laid  upon  my  conscience,  but  also  from  the  very  filth 
thereof;  for  the  temptation  was  removed,  and  I  was  put 
into  my  right  mind  again,  as  other  Christians  were.  I 
remember  that  one  day,  as  I  was  travelling  into  the 
country  and  musing  on  the  wickedness  and  blasphemy 
of  my  heart,  and  considering  the  enmity  that  was  in  me 
to  God,  that  sci'ipture  came  into  my  mind :  "  Having 
made  peace  through  the  blood  of  His  cross."  Col.  1  :  29. 
By  which  I  was  made  to  see,  both  again  and  again,  that 
God  and  my  soul  were  friends  by  his  blood ;  yea,  I  saw 
that  the  justice  of  God  and  my  sinful  soul  could  embrace 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING,  47 

and  kiss  each  other,  through  Wis  blood.     Tliis  was  a  p)od 
day  to  mc  ;  I  hope  I  shall  never  forget  it. 

At  another  time,  as  I  sat  by  the  fire  in  niy  house  and 
was  musing  on  my  wretchedness,  the  Lord  made  that 
also  a  precious  word  unto  me  :  "Forasmuch  then  as  tlu; 
children  arc  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he  also  himseH 
likewise  took  part  of  the  same  ;  that  tlumigh  death  he 
might  destroy  him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is, 
the  devil  ;  and  deliver  them  who  through  fear  of  death 
were  all  their  lifetime  subject  to  bondage."  Ileb.  2:14, 
15.  I  thought  that  the  glory  of  these  words  was  then 
so  weighty  on  me,  that  I  was  both  once  and  twice  ready 
to  swoon  as  I  sat,  yet  not  with  grief  and  trouble,  but 
with  solid  joy  and  peace. 


48  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 


I  CHAPTER   VI. 

At  this  time  also  I  sat  under  tlic  ministry  of  holy  Mr. 
^ifford,  whose  doctrine,  by  God's  grace,  was  much  for 
my  stability.  This  man  made  it  much  his  business  t(j 
deliver  the  people  of  God  from  all  those  hard  and  un- 
sound tests  that  by  nature  we  are  prone  to.  lie  would 
bid  us  take  special  heed  that  we  took  not  up  any  truth 
upon  trust,  as  from  this  or  that,  or  any  other  man  or 
men  ;  but  cry  mightily  to  God  that  he  would  convince 
us  of  the  reality  thereof,  and  establish  us  thei'ein  by  his 
own  Spirit  in  the  holy  word  ;  for,  said  he,  if  you  do 
otherwise,  when  temptation  comes,  if  strongly  upon  you, 
you  not  having  received  the  word  with  evidence  from 
heaven,  will  find  you  want  that  help  and  strength  now 
to  resist,  that  once  you  thought  you  had. 

This  was  as  seasonable  to  mj'  soul  as  the  former  and 
latter  rain  in  their  season,  for  I  had  found,  and  that  by 
sad  experience,  the  truth  of  these  his  words  ;  for  I  had 
felt  that  no  man  can  say,  especially  when  tempted  by 
the  devil,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  but  by  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Wherefore  I  found  my  soul  through  grace  very 
apt  to  drink  in  this  doctrine,  and  to  incline  to  pray  to 
God  that,  in  nothing  that  pertained  to  God's  glory  and 
my  own  eternal  happiness,  he  would  suffer  me  to  be 
without  the  confirmation  thereof  from  heaven  ;  for  now  I 
saw  clearly  that  there  was  an  exceeding  difference  be- 
tween the  notion  of  the  flesh  and  blood,  and  the  revela- 
tion of  God  in  heaven ;  also  a  great  difference  between 
that  faith  that  is  feigned  and  according  to  man's  wisdom, 
and  that  which  comes  by  a  man's  being  born  thereto  of 
God.     Matt.  16:17;  1  John  5:1. 

But  Oh,  how  was  my  soul  now  led  from  ti'utli  to  truth 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  49 

by  God  ;  even  from  tlie  l)irtli  and  cradle  of  the  Son  of 
God,  to  his  ascension  and  second  coming'  from  heaven  to 
judge  the  workl.  Truly  I  then  found  upon  this  account 
the  great  God  was  very  good  unto  me,  for  to  my  remem- 
brance there  was  not  any  thing  that  I  then  cried  unto 
God  to  make  known  and  reveal  unto  me,  but  he  was 
pleased  to  do  it  for  me — I  mean,  not  one  part  of  the 
gospel  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  but  I  was  orderly  let  into  it. 
Methought  I  saw,  with  great  evidence  from  the  four 
evangelists,  the  woiiderful  works  of  God  in  giving  Jesus 
Christ  to  save  us,  from  his  conception  and  birth  even  to 
his  second  coming  to  judgment :  methought  I  was  as  if 
I  had  seen  him  born,  as  if  I  had  seen  him  grow  up,  as  if 
I  had  seen  him  walk  through  this  world  from  the  cradle 
to  the  cross  ;  to  which  also,  Avhen  lie  came,  I  saw  how 
gently  he  gave  himself  to  be  crucified  and  nailed  on  the 
cross  for  my  sins  and  wicked  doings.  Also,  as  I  was 
musing  on  this  his  progress,  that  passage  dropped  on 
my  spirit :  He  was  ordained  for  the  slaughter.  1  Pet. 
1 :  11,  20.  When  I  have  considered  also  the  truth  of  his 
resurrection,  and  have  remembered  that  word,  "Touch 
me  not,  Mary,"  etc.,  I  have  seen  as  if  he  had  leaped  out 
of  the  grave's  mouth  for  joy  that  he  was  risen  again, 
and  had  got  the  conquest  over  our  dreadful  foes,  John 
20  :  17.  I  have  also  in  the  spirit  seen  him  a  man  on  the 
right  hand  of  God  the  Father  for  me ;  and  have  seen  the 
manner  of  his  coming  from  heaven  to  judge  the  world 
with  glory,  and  have  boon  confirmed  in  these  things  bj' 
these  scriptures  :  Acts  1:0;  7  :  50  ;  10  :  42  ;  Ileb.  7  :  24  ; 
Kev.  1:18;  1  Thess.  4:17,  18. 

Once  I  was  troubled  to  know  whether  the  Lord  Jesus 
was  man  as  well  as  God,  and  God  as  well  as  man  ;  and 
truly  in  those  days,  let  men  say  what  they  would,  unless 
I  had  it  with  evidence  from  heaven,  all  was  nothing  to 
me;  I  counted  myself  not  set  down  in  any  truth  of  God. 

Pil  Troi;  ;j 


50  BUXYAN'S  LIFE, 

Well,  I  was  much  troubled  about  this  point,  and  could 
not  tell  how  to  be  resolved ;  at  last  that  in  Rev.  5  :  6 
came  into  my  mind :  "And  I  beheld,  and  lo,  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne  and  of  the  four  beasts,  and  in  the  midst  of 
the  elders,  stood  a  Lamb."  In  the  midst  of  the  throne, 
thought  I,  there  is  the  Godhead ;  in  the  midst  of  the 
ciders,  there  is  manhood.  Oh,  methought  this  did  glis- 
ter. It  was  a  goodly  touch,  and  gave  me  sweet  satis-^ 
faction.  That  other  scripture  also  did  help  me  much  in 
this :  "Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  luito  us  a  son  is  given  : 
and  the  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulder :  and  his 
name  shall  be  called  Wonderful,  Counsellor,  The  mighty 
God,  The  everlasting  Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace."  Isa. 
9  :  6.  Also,  besides  these  teachings  of  God  in  his  word, 
the  Lord  made  use  of  two  things  to  confirm  me  in  this 
truth :  the  one  was  the  errors  of  the  fanatics,  and  the 
other  was  the  guilt  of  sin  ;  for  as  the  fanatics  did  oppose 
the  truth,  so  God  did  the  more  confirm  me  in  it  by  lead- 
ing me  into  the  scripture  that  did  wonderfully  main- 
tain it. 

The  errors  tlicy  maintained  were, 

1.  That  the  holy  Scriptures  were  not  the  word  of 
God. 

2.  That  every  man  in  the  world  had  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  grace,  faith,  etc. 

3.  That  Christ  Jesus,  as  crucified  and  dying  sixteen 
hundred  years  ago,  did  not  satisfy  divine  justice  for  the 
sins  of  the  people. 

4.  That  Christ's  flesh  and  blood  were  within  the 
saints. 

5.  That  the  bodies  of  the  good  and  bad  that  are  bur- 
ied in  the  churchyard  shall  not  rise  again. 

6.  That  the  resurrection  is  passed  Avith  good  men 
already. 

7.  That  that  man  Jesus  that  was  crucified  between 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  51 

two  thieves  on  mount  Calvaiy,  in  the  land  of  Canaan, 
by  Judea,  was  not  ascended  above  the  starry  heaven. 

8.  That  he  sliould  not,  even  the  same  Jesus  that  died 
by  the  hands  of  the  Jews,  come  again  at  the  last  da}^, 
and  as  man  judge  all  nations,  etc. 

Many  more  vile  and  abominable  things  were  in  those 
days  fomented  by  them,  by  which  I  was  driven  to  a  more 
narrow  search  of  the  Scriptures,  and  was,  through  their 
light  and  testimony,  not  only  enlightened,  but  greatly 
confirmed  and  comforted  in  the  truth. 

And  as  I  said,  the  guilt  of  sin  did  help  mc  much,  fur 
still,  as  that  would  come  upon  me,  the  blood  of  Christ  did 
take  it  off  again  and  again,  and  that  too  sweetly,  accord- 
ing to  the  Scriptures.  Oh,  friends,  cry  to  God  to  reveal 
Jesus  Christ  unto  you  ;  there  is  none  teacheth  like  him. 

It  would  be  too  long  here  to  stay  to  tell  3'ou  in  par- 
ticular how  God  did  confirm  mc  in  all  the  things  of 
Christ ;  and  how  he  did,  that  he  might  do  so,  lead  mc 
into  his  words  ;  yea,  and  also  how  he  did  open  them 
unto  mc,  and  make  them  shine  before  me,  and  cause 
them  to  dwell  with  me,  talk  with  me,  and  comfort  me 
over  and  over,  both  of  his  own  being  and  the  being  of 
his  Son  and  Spirit,  and  word  and  gospel.  Only  this,  as 
I  said  before,  I  will  say  unto  you  again,  that  in  general 
he  was  pleased  to  take  this  course  with  me :  first  to  suf- 
fer mc  to  bo  afflicted  with  temptations  concerning  them, 
and  then  reveal  them  unto  mc.  As  sometimes  I  would 
lie  under  great  guilt  for  sin,  even  crushed  to  the  ground 
therewith,  and  then  the  Lord  would  show  me  the  death 
of  Christ ;  yea,  so  sprinkle  my  conscience  with  his 
blood,  that  I  would  find,  and  that  before  I  was  aware, 
that  in  that  conscience,  where  but  just"  now  did  reign 
and  rage  the  law,  even  there  would  rest  and  abide  the 
peace  and  love  of  God,  through  Christ. 

Now  I  had  an  evidence,  as  I  thought,  of  mv  salva- 


52  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

lion  from  heaven,  with  many  golden  seals  thereon,  all 
hanging  in  my  sight ;  now  could  I  remember  this  mani- 
festation, and  the  other  discovery  of  grace  with  comfort ; 
and  would  often  long  and  desire  that  the  last  day  were 
Come,  that  I  iniglit  be  for  ever  inflamed  with  the  sight 
and  joy  and  communion  with  Him  whose  head  was  crown- 
ed Avith  thorns,  whose  face  was  spit  upon,  and  body  bro- 
ken, and  soul  made  an  offering  for  my  sins  ;  for  whereas 
before  I  lay  continually  trembling  at  the  mouth  of  hell, 
now  methought  I  was  got  so  far  therefrom  that  when  I 
looked  back  I  could  scarce  discern  it ;  and  Oh,  thought 
I,  that  I  were  fourscore  years  old  now,  that  I  might  die 
quickly,  that  my  soul  might  be  gone  to  rest. 

But  before  I  had  got  thus  far  out  of  these  my  temp- 
tations, I  did  greatly  long  to  see  some  ancient  godly 
man's  experience,  who  had  written  some  hundreds  of 
years  before  I  was  born  ;  for  those  who  had  written  in 
our  days,  I  thought — but  I  desire  them  now  to  pardon 
me — that  they  had  written  only  that  which  others  felt ; 
or  else  had,  through  the  strength  of  their  wits  and  parts, 
studied  to  answer  such  objections  as  they  perceived 
others  were  perplexed  with,  without  going  down  them- 
selves into  the  deep. 

Well,  after  many  such  longings  in  my  mind,  the  God 
in  whose  hands  are  all  our  days  and  wa^'s,  did  cast  into 
my  hand  one  day  a  book  of  Martin  Luther's  ;  it  was  his 
Comment  on  the  Galatians.  It  also  was  so  old  that  it 
was  ready  to  fall  piece  from  piece,  if  I  did  but  turn  it 
over.  Now  I  was  pleased  much  that  such  an  old  book 
had  fallen  into  my  hands,  the  which  when  I  had  but  a 
little  way  perused  I  found  my  condition  in  his  experience 
so  largely  and  profoundly  handled,  as  if  his  book  had 
been  written  out  of  my  heart.  This  made  me  marvel, 
for  thus  thought  I :  this  man  could  not  know  any  thing 
of  the  state  of  Christians  now,  but  must  needs  write  and 


OR  UUACE  A  BO  r  XI)  IXC.  53 

speak  the  experience  of  former  daj^s.  besides,  ho  dotli 
most  gravely  also  in  that  book  debate  of  the  rise  of  these 
temptations,  namely,  blasphemy,  desperation,  and  the 
like  ;  showing  that  the  law  of  Moses,  as  well  as  the 
^devil,  death,  and  hell,  hath  a  very  great  hand  therein,  the 
which  at  first  was  very  strange  to  me  ;  but  considering 
and  watching,  I  found  it  so  indeed.  But  of  particulars 
here  I  intend  nothing,  only  this  methinks  I  must  let  fall 
before  all  men :  I  do  prefer  this  book  of  Martin  Luther 
upon  the  Galatians,  excepting  the  Holy  Bible,  before  all 
the  books  that  ever  I  have  seen,  as  most  fit  for  a  wound- 
ed conscience. 

And  now  I  found,  as  I  thought,  that  I  loved  Christ 
dearly.  Oh,  methought  my  soul  cleaved  unto  him,  my 
affections  cleaved  unto  him ;  I  felt  my  love  to  him  as  hot 
as  fire  ;  and  now,  as  Job  said,  I  thought  I  should  die  in 
my  nest :  but  I  quickly  found  that  my  great  love  was 
but  too  little,  and  that  I,  who  had,  as  I  thought,  such 
burning  love  to  Jesus  Christ,  could  let  him  go  again  for 
a  very  trifle.  God  can  tell  how  to  abase  us,  and  can 
hide  pride  from  man. 

Quickly  after  this  my  love  was  tried  to  purpose ;  for 
after  the  Lord  had  in  this  manner  thus  graciously  deliv- 
ered me  irom  this  great  and  sore  temptation,  and  had 
established  me  so  sweetly  in  the  faith  of  his  holy  gospel, 
and  had  given  me  such  strong  consolation  and  blessed 
evidence  from  heaven  touching  my  interest  in  his  love 
through  Christ,  the  tempter  came  upon  me  again,  and 
that  with  a  more  grievous  and  dreadful  temptation  than 
before :  and  that  was,  to  sell  and  part  with  this  most 
blessed  Christ — to  exchange  him  for  the  things  of  this 
life,  for  any  thing.  The  temptation  lay  upon  me  for  ti.e 
space  of  a  yeax',  and  did  follow  me  so  continually  that  I 
was  not  rid  of  it  one  day  in  a  month  ;  no,  not  sometimes 
one  hour  in  many  days  together,  unless  when  I  was 


54  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

asleep.  And  thoug-h  in  my  judgment  I  was  persuaded 
that  those  who  were  once  effectually  in  Christ,  as  I  liopcd 
through  his  grace  I  had  seen  myself,  could  never  lose 
him  for  ever  :  for  "  the  land  shall  not  be  sold  for  ever ;  for 
the  land  is  mine,"  saith  God.  Lev.  25  :  23.  Yet  it  was 
a  continual  vexation  to  me  to  think  that  I  should  have 
so  much  as  one  such  thought  within  me  against  a  Christ, 
a  Jesus  who  had  done  for  me  as  he  had  done ;  and  yet 
then  I  had  almost  none  others  but  such  blasphemous  ones. 

It  was  neither  my  dislike  of  the  thought,  nor  yet  any 
desire  and  endeavor  to  resist  it,  that  in  the  least  did 
shake  or  abate  the  continuation  or  force  and  strength 
chereof ;  for  it  did  always,  in  almost  whatever  I  thought, 
intermix  itself  therewith  in  such  sort  that  I  could  neither 
eat  my  food,  stoop  for  a  pin,  chop  a  stick,  or  cast  mine 
eyes'  to  look  on  this  or  that,  but  still  the  temptation 
would  come,  Sell  Christ  for  this,  or  sell  Christ  for  that ; 
sell  him,  sell  him.  Sometimes  it  would  run  in  my 
thoughts  not  so  little  as  a  hundred  times  together.  Sell 
him,  sell  him,  sell  him ;  against  which  I  may  say,  for 
whole  hours  together  I  have  been  forced  to  stand  as  con- 
tinually leaning  and  forcing  my  spirit  against  it,  lest 
haply  before  I  was  aware  some  wicked  thought  might 
arise  in  my  heart  that  might  consent  thereto  ;  and  some- 
times the  tempter  would  make  me  believe  I  had  consent- 
ed to  it ;  but  then  I  would  be  as  tortured  upon  a  rack 
for  whole  days  together. 

This  temptation  did  put  me  to  such  fears  lest  I  should 
at  sometimes,  I  say,  consent  thereto  and  be  overcome 
therewith,  that  by  the  very  force  of  my  mind  in  laboring 
to  gainsay  and  resist  this  wickedness,  my  very  body 
would  be  put  in  action  or  motion,  by  way  of  pushing  or 
thrusting  with  my  hands  or  elbows,  still  answering  as 
fast  as  the  destroyer  said,  "Sell  him,"  "I  will  not,  I  will 
not,  I  will  not ;  no,  not  for  thousands,  thousands,  thou- 


OR   (JRACE  ABOLNDIXCI.  55 

sands  of  worlds  ;"  thus  reckoning-,  lest  I  should  in  the 
midst  of  these  assaults  set  too  low  a  value  on  him,  even 
until  I  scarce  well  knew  where  I  was,  or  how  to  be  com- 
posed again.  At  these  seasons  he  would  not  let  me  eat 
my  food  in  quiet ;  but  forsooth,  when  I  was  set  at  the 
table  at  my  meat,  I  must  go  hence  to  pray  ;  I  must  leave 
my  food  now,  and  just  now,  so  counterfeit  holy  would 
this  devil  be.  AVhen  I  was  thus  tempted,  I  would  say 
in  myself.  Now  I  am  at  meat,  let  me  make  an  end.  No, 
said  he,  you  must  do  it  now,  or  you  will  displease  God 
and  despise  Christ.  Wherefore  I  was  much  afflicted 
with  these  things,  and  because  of  the  sinfulness  of  my 
nature.  If,  imagining  that  these  were  impulses  from 
God,  I  should  deny  to  do  it,  would  it  not  be  as  if  I  de- 
nied God  ?  and  then  should  I  not  be  as  guilty,  because  I 
did  obey  a  temptation  of  the  devil,  as  if  I  had  broken 
the  law  of  God  indeed  ? 

But  to  be  brief,  one  morning  as  I  lay  in  my  bed  I 
was,  as  at  other  times,  most  fiercely  assaulted  with  this 
temptation  to  sell  and  part  with  Christ,  the  wicked 
suggestion  strll  running  in  my  mind,  "Sell  him,  sell  hi:n, 
sell  him,  sell  him,"  as  fast  as  a  man  could  speak  ;  against 
which  also  in  my  mind,  as  at  otlier  times,  I  answered, 
"No,  no,  not  for  thousands,  thousands,  thousands,"  at 
least  twenty  times  together  ;  but  at  last,  after  much 
striving,  even  until  I  was  almost  out  of  breath,  I  felt 
this  thought  pass  through  my  heart,  "Let  him  go  if  he 
will ;"  and  I  thought  also  that  I  felt  my  heart  freely  con- 
sent thereto.  Oh  the  diligence  of  Satan  ;  Oh  the  despe- 
rateness  of  man's  heart ! 

Now  was  the  battle  won,  and  down  fell  I,  as  a  bird 
that  is  shot  from  the  top  of  a  tree,  into  great  guilt  and 
fearful  despair.  Tims  getting  out  of  my  bed,  I  went 
moping  into  the  fields  ;  but,  God  knows,  with  as  heavy  a 
heart  as  mortal  man  I  think  could  bear,  where  for  tlie 


C6  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

space  of  two  hours  I  was  like  a  man  bereft  of  life,  and 
as  now  past  all  recovery,  and  bound  over  to  eternal  pun- 
ishment. 

And  withal  that  scripture  did  seize  upon  my  soul : 
"  Or  profane  person,  as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat 
sold  his  birthright.  For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards, 
when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing-,  he  was 
rejected ;  for  he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  ho 
sought  it  carefully  with  tears."     Heb.  12  :  16,  It. 

Now  was  I  as  one  bound  ;  I  felt  myself  shut  up  into 
the  judgment  to  come.  Nothing  now,  for  two  years 
together,  would  abide  with  me  but  damnation,  and  an 
expectation  of  damnation ;  I  say,  nothing  now  would 
abide  with  me  but  this,  save  some  few  moments  for 
relief,  as  in  the  sequel  you  will  see.  These  words  were 
to  my  soul  like  fetters  of  brass  to  my  legs,  in  the  contin- 
ual sound  of  which  I  went  for  several  months  together. 
But  about  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  on  that  day,  as  I  was 
walking  under  a  hedge,  full  of  sorrow  and  guilt,  God 
knows,  and  bemoaning  myself  for  this  hard  hap  that 
such  a  thought  should  arise  within  me, 'suddenly  this 
sentence  rushed  in  upon  me  :  '•'  The  blood  of  Christ  remits 
all  guilt."  At  this  I  made  a  stand  in  my  spirit.  With 
that  this  word  took  hold  upon  me  :  "  The  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  his  Son  cleanse'th  us  from  all  sin."     1  John  1  :  t. 

Now  I  began  to  conceive  peace  in  my  soul ;  and  me- 
thought  I  saw  as  if  the  tempter  did  leer  and  steal  away 
from  me,  as  being  ashamed  of  what  he  had  done.  At  the 
same  time  also  I  had  my  sin  and  the  blood  of  Christ  thus 
represented  to  me :  that  my  sin,  when  compai-ed  to  the 
blood  of  Christ,  was  no  more  to  it  than  this  little  clod  or 
stone  before  me  is  to  this  vast  and  wide  field  that  here  I 
see.  This  gave  me  good  encouragement  for  the  space  of 
two  or  three  hours  ;  in  which  time  also  methought  I  saw 
by  faith  the  Son  of  God  as  suffering  for  my  sins  :  but 


OR  GRACE   ABUlNDIXd.  57 

because  it  tarried  nut,  I  tlierel\)rc  sunk  in  my  spirit 
under  exceeding-  j^'uilt  again  ;  but  cliielly  by  the  at'ure- 
nientioned  scripture  concerning  Esau's  selling  of  his 
birthright,  for  that  scripture  would  lie  all  day  long  in 
my  mind,  and  hold  me  down,  so  that  I  could  by  no  means 
lift  up  myself;  for  when  I  would  strive  to  turn  to  this 
scripture  or  that  for  i-elief,  still  that  sentence  would  be 
sounding  in  me:  "For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards, 
when  ho  would  have  inherited  the  blessing-,  he  found  no 
place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully  with 
tears."  Sometimes,  indeed,  I  would  have  a  touch  from 
that  in  Luke  22:32:  "I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy 
faith  fail  not ;"  but  it  would  not  abide  upon  me  ;  neither 
could  I  indeed,  when  I  considered  my  state,  find  ground 
to  conceive  in  the  least  that  there  should  be  the  root  of 
that  grace  in  mo,  having  sinned  as  I  had  done.  Now  was 
I  torn  and  rent  in  a  heavy  case  for  many  days  together. 
Then  began  I  with  sad  and  careful  heart  to  consider 
of  the  nature  and  largeness  of  my  sin,  and  to  search  into 
the  word  of  God,  if  1  could  in  any  place  espy  a  word  of 
promise,  or  any  encouraging  sentence,  by  which  I  might 
take  relief.  Wherefore  I  began  to  cousidcF  that  of 
Mark  3:28:  "All  sins  shall  be  forgiven  unto  the  sons 
of  men,  and  blasphemies  wherewith  soever  they  shall 
blaspheme."  Which  place,  methought  at  a  blush,  did 
contain  a  large  and  glorious  promise  for  the  pardon  of 
high  oflences  ;  but  considering  the  place  more  fully,  I 
thunglit  it  was  rather  to  be  understood  as  relating  more 
cliielly  to  those  who  had,  while  in  a  natural  state,  com- 
mitted such  things  as  thci-e  arc  mentioned  ;  but  not  to 
me,  who  had  not  only  received  light  and  mercy,  but  who 
had,  both  after  and  also  contrary  to  that,  so  slighted 
Christ  as  I  had  done.  I  feared  therefore  that  this  wick- 
ed sin  of  mine  might  be  that  sin  unpardonable  of  which 
he  there  thus  speakcth  :  "But  he  that  shall  blaspheme 


58  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

against  the  Hvily  Ghost  hath  never  forgiveness,  but  is  in 
danger  of  eternal  damnation."  Mark  3  :  29  And  1  did 
the  rather  give  credit  to  this,  because  of  that  sentence 
in  the  Hebrews  :  "  For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards, 
when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he  was 
rejected  ;  for  he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he 
sought  it  carefully  with  tears."  And  this  stuck  always 
with  nie.  And  now  was  I  both  a  burden  and  a  terror  to 
myself;  nor  did  I  ever  so  know  as  now  what  it  was  to 
be  weary  of  my  life,  and  yet  afraid  to  die.  Oh,  how 
gladly  now  would  I  have  been  any  body  but  myself — 
any  thing  but  a  man,  and  in  any  condition  but  my  own  ; 
for  there  Avas  nothing  did  pass  more  frequently  over  my 
mind  than  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  be  forgiven 
my  transgression,  and  be  saved  from  the  wrath  to  come. 

And  now  I  began  to  labor  to  call  again  time  that  was 
past,  wishing  a  thousand  times  twice  told  that  the  day 
Avas  yet  to  come  when  I  should  be  tempted  to  such  a 
sin ;  concluding  with  great  indignation,  both  against 
my  heart  and  all  assaults,  how  I  would  rather  be  torn  in 
pieces  than  be  found  a  consenter  thereto.  But  alas, 
these  thoughts  and  wishes  and  resolvings  were  now  too 
late  to  help  me ;  this  thought  had  passed  my  heart : 
God  hath  let  me  go,  and  I  am  fallen.  Oh,  thought  I, 
that  it  was  with  me  as  in  months  past,  as  in  the  days 
when  God  preserved  me.     Job  29  -.  2. 

Then  again,  being  loath  and  unwilling  to  perish,  I 
began  to  compare  my  sin  with  others,  to  see  if  I  could 
find  that  any  of  those  that  were  saved  had  done  as  I  had 
done.  So  I  considered  David's  adultery  and  murder,  and 
found  them  most  heinous  crimes,  and  those  too  commit- 
ted after  light  and  grace  received.  But  yet,  by  consid- 
ering that  his  transgressions  were  only  such  as  were 
against  the  law  of  Moses,  from  which  the  Lord  Christ 
could,  with  the  consent  of  his  word,  deliver  him  ;  but 


0 11  Gil  A  C  E  A  B  0  U  X  D I X  G  .  5'^ 

mine  -was  against  the  gospel,  yea,  against  the  Mediator 
thereof;  I  liad  sold  my  Saviour:  now  again  would  I  be 
as  if  racked  upon  the  wheel,  when  I  considered  that  be- 
sides the  guilt  that  possessed  me,  I  should  be  so  void  of 
grace,  so  bewitched.  What,  thought  I,  must  it  be  no 
sin  but  this?  Must  it  needs  be  the  great  transgression? 
Must  that  wicked  one  touch  my  soul?  Psa.  19:13; 
1  John  5  :  18.  Oil,  what  sting  did  I  find  in  all  these 
sentences  !  What,  thouglit  I,  is  there  but  one  sin  that 
is  unpardonable — but  one  sin  that  layeth  the  soul  with- 
out the  reach  of  God's  mercy  ?  and  must  I  be  guilty  of 
that ;  must  it  needs  be  that  ?  Is  there  but  one  sin, 
among  so  many  millions  of  sins,  for  which  there  is  no 
forgiveness  ;  and  must  I  commit  this  ?  Oh  imhappy 
sin  !  Oh  imhappy  man  !  These  things  would  so  break 
and  confound  my  spirit,  that  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do ; 
I  thouglit  at  times  they  would  have  broken  my  wits  : 
and  still  to  aggravate  my  misery,  that  would  run  in  my 
mind:  "Ye  know  how  that  afterwards,  when  he  would 
have  inlierited  the  blessing,  he  was  rejected."  Oh,  no 
one  knows  the  terrors  of  those  days  but  myself. 


60  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 


CHAPTER   VII. 


After  this  I  began  to  consider  of  Peter's  sin,  which 
he  committed  in  denying  his  Master.  And  indeed  this 
came  nighest  to  mine  of  any  that  I  coiild  find,  for  he  had 
denied  his  Saviour  as  I,  after  light  and  mercy  received ; 
yea,  and  that  too  after  warning  given  him.  I  also  con- 
sidered that  he  did  it  once  and  twice,  and  that  after 
time  to  consider  between.  But  though  I  put  all  these 
circumstances  together,  that,  if  possible,  L  might  find 
help,  yet  I  considered  again  that  his  was  but  a  denial 
of  his  Master,  but  mine  was  a  selling  of  my  Saviour. 
Wherefore  I  thought  with  myself  that  I  came  nearer  to 
Judas  than  cither  to  David  or  Peter.  Here,  again,  my 
torment  would  flame  out  and  afflict  me  ;  yea,  it  would 
grind  me  as  it  were  to  powder,  to  consider  the  preserva- 
tion of  God  towards  others  while  I  fell  into  the  snare  ; 
for  in  my  thus  considering  other  men's  sins,  and  compar- 
ing them  with  mine  own,  I  could  evidently  see  that  God 
preserved  them,  notwithstanding  their  wickedness,  and 
would  not  let  them,  as  he  had  let  me,  become  a  son  of 
perdition. 

But  Oh,  how  did  my  soul  at  this  time  prize  the  pres- 
ervation that  God  did  set  about  his  people.  Ah,  how 
safely  did  I  see  them  walk  whom  God  had  hedged  in. 
They  were  within  his  care,  protection,  and  special  prov- 
idence ;  though  they  were  full  as  bad  as  I  by  nature, 
yet  because  he  loved  them,  he  would  not  suffer  them  to 
fall  without  the  range  of  mercy ;  but  as  for  me,  I  was 
gone  ;  I  had  done  it ;  he  would  not  preserve  me,  nor  keep 
me ;  but  suffered  me,  because  I  was  a  reprobate,  to  fall 
as  I  had  done.  Now  did  those  blessed  places  that  speak 
of  God's  keeping  his  people  sliinc  like  the  sun  before 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  61 

me,  though  not  to  comfort  nio,  yet  to  show  me  tlie 
blessed  state  and  heritage  of  those  whom  the  Ijord  had 
blessed. 

Now  I  saw  that  as  God  had  his  hand  in  all  the  prov- 
idences and  dispensations  that  overtook  his  elect,  so  he 
had  his  hand  in  all  the  temptations  that  they  had  to  sin 
against  him,  not  to  animate  them  to  wickedness,  but  to 
choose  their  temptations  and  troubles  for  tllbm,  and  also 
to  leave  them  for  a  time  to  such  things  only  as  might 
not  destroy,  but  humble  them — as  might  not  put  them 
beyond,  but  lay  them  in  the  way  of  the  renewing  of  his 
mercy.  But  Oh,  what  love,  what  care,  what  kindness 
and  mercy  did  I  now  see  mixing  itself  with  the  most 
severe  and  dreadful  of  all  God's  ways  to  liis  people.  He 
would  let  David,  Ilezekiah,  Solomon,  Peter,  and  others 
fall,  but  he  would  not  let  them  fall  into  the  sin  unpar- 
donable, nor  into  hell  for  sin.  Oh,  thought  I,  these  be 
the  men  that  God  hath  loved ;  these  be  the  men  that 
God,  though  he  chastiscth  them,  keeps  in  safety  by  him, 
and  whom  he  makes  to  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Almiglity. 

But  all  these  thoughts  added  sorrow,  grief,  and  hor- 
ror to  me,  as  whatever  I  now  thought  on  it  was  killing 
to  me.  If  I  thought  how  God  kept  his  own,  that  was 
killing  to  me  ;  if  I  thought  of  how  I  was  fallen  myself, 
that  was  killing  to  me.  As  all  things  wrought  together 
for  thabest,  and  to  do  good  to  them  that  were  the  called 
accoi'ding  to  his  purpose  ;  so  I  thought  that  all  things 
wrought  for  damage  and  for  my  eternal  overthrow. 
Then,  again,  I  began  to  compare  my  sin  with  the  sin  of 
Judas,  that  if  possible  I  might  find  if  mine  differed  from 
that  which  in  truth  is  unpardonable  ;  and  Oh,  thought  I, 
if  it  should  differ  from  it,  though  but  the  breadth  of  a 
hair,  what  a  happy  condition  is  my  soul  in.  And  by 
considering  I  found  that  Judas  did  his  intentionally,  but 


62  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

mine  was  against  prayer  and  strivings  ;  besides,  his  was 
committed  with  such  deliberation,  but  mine  in  a  fearful 
hurry  on  a  sudden  :  all  this  while  I  was  tossed  to  and  fro 
like  the  locust,  and  driven  from  trouble  to  sorrow,  hear- 
ing always  the  sound  of  Esau's  fall  in  mine  ears,  and 
the  dreadful  consequences  thereof. 

This  consideration  about  Judas'  sin  was  for  a  while 
some  little  belief  to  mo,  for  I  saw  I  had  not,  as  to  the 
circumstances,  transgressed  so  fully  as  he.  But  this 
was  quickly  gone  again,  for  I  thought  with  myself  there 
might  be  more  ways  than  one  to  commit  this  unpardon- 
able sin  ;  also  I  thought  there  might  be  degrees  of  that 
as  well  as  of  other  transgressions  ;  wherefore,  for  aught 
I  yet  could  perceive,  this  iniquity  of  mine  might  be  such 
as  might  never  be  passed  by.  I  was  often  now  ashamed 
that  I  should  be  like  such  an  ugly  man  as  Judas.  I 
thought  also  how  loathsome  I  should  be  unto  all  the 
saints  in  the  day  of  judgment,  insomuch  that  now  I 
could  scarce  see  a  good  man  that  I  believed  had  a  good 
conscience,  but  I  would  feel  my  heart  tremble  at  him 
while  I  was  in  his  presence.  Oh,  now  I  saw  a  glory  in 
walking  with  God,  and  what  a  mercy  it  was  to  have  a 
good  conscience  before  him. 

I  was  much  about  this  time  tempted  to  content  my- 
self by  receiving  some  false  opinions,  as  that  there 
should  be  no  such  thing  as  a  day  of  judgment ;  that  we 
should  not  rise  again ;  and  that  sin  was  no  such  griev- 
ous thing ;  the  tempter  suggesting  thus :  "  If  these 
things  should  indeed  be  true,  yet  to  believe  otherwise 
would  yield  you  ease  for  the  present.  If  you  must  per- 
ish, never  torment  yourself  so  much  beforehand ;  drive 
the  thoughts  of  damning  out  of  your  mind  by  possessing 
your  mind  with  some  such  conclusions  that  atheists  and 
ranters  use  to  help  themselves  withal."  But  Oh,  when 
such  thoughts  have  fled  through  my  heart,  how,  as  it 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  63 

wore  within  a  step,  have  death  and  judgment  been  in 
my  view !  Mcthought  the  Judge  stood  at  the  door ;  1 
was  as  if  it  was  come  already,  so  that  such  things  could 
have  no  entertainment.  But  methiuks  I  see  by  this  that 
Satan  will  use  any  means  to  keep  the  soul  from  Christ ; 
he  loveth  not  an  awakened  frame  of  spirit ;  security-, 
blindness,  darkness,  and  error  are  the  very  kingdom  and 
habitation  of  the  wicked  one.  I  found  it  a  hard  work 
now  to  pray  to  God,  because  despair  was  swallowing 
me  up  ;  I  thought  I  was  as  with  a  tempest  driven  away 
from  God,  for  always  when  I  cried  to  God  for  mercy  this 
would  come  in :  "  It  is  too  late  ;  I  am  lost ;  God  hath  let 
me  fall,  not  to  my  correction  but  my  condemnation  ;  my 
sin  is  unpardonable,  and  I  know  concerning  Esau,  how 
that,  after  he  had  sold  his  birthright,  he  would  have 
received  the  blessing,  but  was  rejected." 

About  tliis  time  I  did  liglit  on  that  dreadful  story  of 
that  miserable  mortal,  Francis  Spira,  a  book  that  was 
to  my  troubled  spirit  as  salt  when  rubbed  into  a  fresli 
wound.  Every  sentence  in  that  book,  every  groan  of 
that  man,  with  all  the  rest  of  his  actions  in  his  dolors, 
as  his  tears,  his  prayers,  his  gnashing  of  teeth,  his 
•wringing  of  hands,  his  twisting  and  languishing  and 
pining  away  nnder  that  mighty  hand  of  God  that  was 
upon  him,  were  as  knives  and  daggers  in  my  soul ;  es- 
pecially that  sentence  of  his  was  frightful  to  me:  "Man 
knows- the  beginning  of  sin,  but  who  bounds  the  issues 
thereof?"  Then  would  the  former  sentence,  as  the  con- 
clusion of  all,  fall  like  a  hot  thunderbolt  again  upon  my 
conscience :  "  For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards,  whca 
he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he  was  rejected ; 
for  he  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it 
carefully  with  tears." 

Then  would  I  be  struck  into  a  very  great  trembling, 
iiisomucli  that   at  some  times   I  could,  for  whole  days 


04  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

tog-ether,  feel  my  very  body  as  well  as  my  mind  shake 
and  totter  under  the  sense  of  this  dreadful  judgment  of 
God  that  would  fall  on  those  that  have  sinned  that  most 
fearful  and  unpardonable  sin.  I  felt  also  such  a  clog- 
ging and  heat  at  my  stomach,  by  reason  of  this  my  ter- 
ror, that  I  was,  especially  at  some  times,  as  if  my  breast- 
bone would  split  asunder  ;  then  I  thought  concerning 
that  of  Judas,  who  by  his  falling  headlong  burst  asunder, 
and  all  his  bowels  gushed  out.  Acts  1 :  18.  I  feared 
also  that  this  was  the  mark  that  God  did  set  on  Cain, 
even  continual  fear  and  trembling-,  under  the  heavy  load 
of  guilt  that  he  had  charged  on  him  for  the  blood  of  his 
brother  Abel. 

Thus  did  I  wind  and  twine  and  shrink  under  the  bur- 
den that  was  upon  me,  which  burden  did  so  oppress  me 
that  I  could  neither  stand  nor  go,  nor  lie  either  at  rest  or 
quiet.  Yet  that  saying  would  sometimes  come  into  my 
mind  :  "  He  hath  received  gifts  for  the  rebellious."  Psa. 
68  :  18.  The  rebellious,  thought  I :  why,  surely  they  are 
such  as  QJice  were  under  subjection  to  their  prince  ;  even 
those  who,  after  they  have  once  sworn  subjection  to  his 
government,  have  taken  up  arms  against  him ;  and  this, 
thought  I,  is  my  very  condition.  I  once  loved  him,  feared 
him,  served  him  ;  but  now  I  am  a  rebel ;  I  have  sold  him  ; 
I  have  said.  Let  him  go  if  he  will :  but  yet  he  has  gifts 
for  rebels  ;  and  then  why  not  for  me  ?  This  sometimes 
I  thought  on,  and  would  labor  hard  to  take  hold  thereof, 
that  some,  though  small  refreshment,  might  have  been 
conceived  by  mc  ;  but  in  this  also  I  missed  of  my  desire  : 
I  was  driven  with  force  beyond  it ;  I  was  like  a  man 
going  to  execution  even  by  that  place  where  he  would 
fain  creep  in  and  hide  himself,  but  may  not. 

Again,  after  I  had  thus  considered  the  sins  of  the 
saints  in  particular,  and  found  mine  went  beyond  them, 
tlien  I  began  to  think  with  myself.  Set  the  case  as  I 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  65 

should,  put  all  theirs  together,  and  mine  alone  against 
them,  might  I  not  then  find  encouragement  ?  for  if  mine, 
though  bigger  than  any  one,  yet  should  be  but  equal  to 
all,  then  there  is  hope  ;  for  that  blood  that  hath  virtue 
enough  in  it  to  wash  away  all  theirs,  hath  virtue  enough 
in  it  to  wash  away  mine,  though  this  one  be  full  as  big, 
if  not  bigger  than  all  theirs.  Here,  again,  I  would  con- 
sider the  sin  of  David,  of  Solomon,  of  Manasseh,  of 
Peter,  and  the  rest  of  the  great  offenders,  and  would 
also  labor,  what  I  might  with  fairness,  to  aggravate  and 
heighten  their  sins  by  several  cii-cumstances.  I  would 
think  with  myself  that  David  shed  blood  to  cover  his 
adultery,  and  that  by  the  sword  of  the  children  of  Am- 
nion— a  work  that  could  not  be  done  but  by  contrivance, 
which  was  a  groat  aggravation  to  his  sin. 

But  then  this  would  turn  upon  nic :  "Ah,  but  these 
were  but  sins  against  the  law,  from  which  there  was  a 
Jesus  sent  to  save  them  ;  but  yours  is  a  sin  against  the 
Saviour,  and  who  shall  save  you  from  that?"  Then  I 
thought  on  Solomon,  and  how  he  sinned  in  loving  strange 
women,  in  falling  away  to  their  idols,  in  building  them 
temples,  in  doing  this  after  light,  in  his  old  age,  after 
great  mercy  received.  But  the  same  conclusion  that 
cut  me  off  in  the  former  consideration,  cut  me  off  as  to 
this,  namely,  that  all  these  were  but  sins  against  the 
law,  for  which  God  had  provided  a  remedy ;  but  I  had 
sold  my  Saviour,  and  there  remained  no  more  sacrifice 
for  sin.  I  would  then  add  to  these  men's  sins  the  sins  of 
Manasseh,  how  that  he  built  altars  for  idols  in  the  house 
of  the  Lord  ;  he  also  observed  times,  used  enchantments, 
had  to  do  with  wizards,  was  a  wizard,  had  his  familiar 
spirits,  burned  his  children  in  sacrifice  to  devils,  and 
made  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  run  down  with  the  blood 
of  innocents.  These,  thought  I,  are  great  sins,  sins  of  a 
bloody  color ;  but   yet  it  would  turn  again  upon  me : 


G6  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

"  They  are  none  of  them  of  the  nature  of  yours ;  you 
have  parted  with  Jesus,  you  have  sold  your  Saviour." 
This  one  consideration  would  always  kill  my  heart :  my 
sin  was  point-blank  against  my  Saviour,  and  that  too 
at  such  a  height  that  I  had  in  my  heart  said  of  him, 
Let  him  go  if  he  will.  Oh,  methought  this  sin  was  big- 
ger than  the  sins  of  a  country,  of  a  kingdom,  or  of  the 
whole  world ;  no  one  pardonable,  nor  all  of  them  togeth- 
er was  able  to  equal  mine ;  mine  outwent  them  every 
one. 

Now  I  would  find  my  mind  to  flee  from  God  as  from 
the  face  of  a  dreadful  judge  ;  yet  this  was  my  torment, 
I  could  not  escape  his  hand  :  "  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God."  Heb.  10 :  31. 
But  blessed  be  his  grace,  that  scripture  in  these  flying 
fits  would  call,  as  running  after  me  :  "I  have  blotted  out, 
as  a  thick  cloud,  thy  transgressions,  and  as  a  cloud,  thy 
sins  :  return  unto  me  ;  for  I  have  redeemed  thee  "  Isa. 
44  :  22.  This,  I  say,  would  come  in  upon  my  mind  when 
I  was  fleeing  from  the  face  of  God,  for  I  did  flee  from  his 
face,  that  is,  my  mind  and  spirit  fled  before  him,  by  rea- 
son of  his  highness  I  could  not  endure ;  then  would  the 
text  cry,  "Return  unto  me  ;"  it  would  cry  aloud  with  a 
very  great  voice,  "Return  unto  me  ;  for  I  have  redeemed 
thee." 

Indeed,  this  would  make  me  make  a  little  stop,  and 
as  it  were  look  over  my  shoulder  behind  me  to  see  if  I 
could  discern  that  the  God  of  grace  did  follow  me  with 
a  pardon  in  his  hand  ;  but  I  could  no  sooner  do  that  but 
all  would  be  clouded  and  darkened  again  by  that  sen- 
tence :  ' "  For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards,  when  he 
would  have  inherited  the  blessing,  he  found  no  place  of 
repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully  with  tears." 
Wherefore  I  could  not  refrain,  but  fled,  though  at  some- 
times it  cried,  Return,  retui-n,  as  if  it  did  follow  after 


UK   (;i{ACl-]   AHULXUINU.  67 

me  ;  but  I  feared  to  close  in  therewith  lest  it  should  not 
come  from  God,  for  that  other,  as  I  said,  was  still  sound- 
ing in  my  conscience :  "  For  ye  know  how  that  after- 
wards, when  he  would  have  inherited  the  blessing-,  he 
was  rejected,"  etc. 

Once,  as  I  was  walking  to  and  fro  in  a  good  man's 
shop,  bemoaning  myself  in  my  sad  and  doleful  state, 
afflicting  mj'self  with  self-abhorrence  for  this  wicked  and 
ungodly  thought  ;  lamenting  also  this  hard  hap  of  mine, 
that  I  should  commit  so  great  a  sin,  greatly  fearing  that 
I  should  not  be  pardoned  ;  praying  also  in  m}'  heart  that 
if  this  sin  of  mine  did  differ  from  that  against  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  Lord  would  show  it  me  ;  and  being  now  ready 
to  sink  with  fear,  suddenly  there  was  as  if  there  had 
rushed  in  at  the  window  the  noise  of  wind  upon  me,  but 
very  pleasant,  and  as  if  I  heard  a  voice  speaking,  "Didst 
thou  ever  refuse  to  be  justifie'd  by  the  blood  of  Christ  ?" 
and  withal,  my  whole  life  of  profession  past  was  in  a 
moment  opened  unto  me,  wherein  I  was  made  to  see  that 
designedly  I  had  not ;  so  my  heart  answered  groaning- 
ly,  No. 

Then  fell  with  power  that  word  of  God  upon  me : 
"  See  that  ye  refuse  not  him  that  speaketh."  Heb.  12  :  25. 
This  made  a  strange  seizure  upon  my  spirit ;  it  brought 
light  with  it,  and  commanded  a  silence  in  my  heart  of 
all  those  tumultuous  thoughts  that  did  before  use,  like 
masterless  hell-hounds,  to  roar  and  bellow  and  make  a 
hideous  noise  within  me.  It  showed  me  also  that  Jesus 
Christ  had  yet  a  word  of  grace  and  mercy  for  me  ;  that 
he  had  not,  as  I  had  feared,  quite  forsaken  and  cast  off 
my  soul ;  yea,  this  was  a  kind  of  check  for  my  prone- 
ness  to  desperation — a  kind  of  threatening  of  me,  if  I 
did  not,  notwithstanding  my  sins  and  the  heinousness  of 
them,  venture  my  salvation  upon  the  Son  of  God. 

But  as  to  my  determining  about  this  strange  dispen- 


68  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

sation,  what  it  was  I  know  not,  or  from  whence  it  came 
I  know  not ;  I  have  not  yet  in  twenty  years'  time  been 
able  to  make  a  judgment  of  it ;  I  thought  then  what  I 
should  be  loath  here  to  speak.  But  verily  that  sudden 
rushing  wind  was  as  if  an  angel  had  come  upon  me ; 
but  both  it  and  the  salvation  I  will  leave  until  the  day 
of  judgment :  only  this  I  say,  it  commanded  a  great 
calm  in  my  soul ;  it  persuaded  mc  there  might  be  hope  ; 
it  showed  me,  as  I  thought,  what  the  sin  unpardonable 
was,  and  that  my  soul  had  yet  the  blessed  privilege  to 
flee  to  Jesus  Christ  for  mercy.  But  I  say,  concerning 
this  dispensation,  I  know  not  yet  what  to  say  of  it ; 
which  was  also  in  truth  the  cause  that  at  first  I  did  not 
speak  of  it  in  the  book  ;  I  do  now  also  leave  it  to  be 
thought  on  by  men  of  sound  judgment.  I  lay  not  the 
stress  of  my  salvation  thereupon,  but  upon  the  Lord 
Jesus  in  the  promise ;  yet'  seeing  I  am  here  unfolding 
my  secret  things,  I  thought  it  might  not  be  altogether 
inexpedient  to.  let  this  also  show  itself,  though  I  cannot 
now  relate  the  matter  as  then  I  did  experience  it.  This 
lasted  in  the  savor  of  it  for  about  three  or  four  days,  and 
then  I  began  to  mistrust  and  to  despair  again. 

Wherefore  still  my  life  hung  iu  doubt  before  me,  not 
knowing  which  way  I  should  go ;  only  this  I  found  my 
soul  desire,  even  to  cast  itself  at  the  foot  of  grace  by 
prayer  and  supplication.  But  Oh,  it  was  bard  for  me 
now  to  have  the  face  to  pray  to  this  Christ  for  mercy 
against  whom  I  had  thus  vilely  sinned ;  it  was  hard 
work,  I  say,  to  offer  to  look  Him  in  the  face  against  whom 
I  had  so  vilely  sinned ;  and  indeed  I  have  found  it  as 
difficult  to  come  to  God  by  prayer,  after  backsliding  from 
him,  as  to  do  any  other  thing.  Oh  the  shame  that  did 
now  attend  me,  especially  when  I  thought,  I  am  now 
a  going  to  pray  to  him  for  mercy  that  I  had  so  lightly 
esteemed  but  a  while  before  ;  I  was  ashamed,  yea,  even 


OK   (J  RACE   ABOUNDING.  G9 

confounck'd,  liecaiisc  lliis  villaiiy  IkkI  been  committed  by 
me  ;  but  1  saw  that  there  was  but  one  way  with  me :  I 
must  go  to  him,  and  humble  myself  unto  him,  and  beg 
that  he  of  his  w'ondcrful  mercy  would  show  pity  to  me, 
and  have  mercy  upon  my  wretched  sinful  soul ;  ■which, 
when  the  tempter  perceived,  he  strongly  suggested  to  me 
that  "I  ought  not  to  pray  to  God,  for  prayer  was  not  for 
any  in  my  case ;  neither  could  it  do  me  good,  because  I 
had  rejected  the  Mediator,  .by  whom  all  prayers  came 
with  acceptance  to  God  the  Father,  and  without  whom  no 
prayer  could  come  into  his  presence  ;  wherefore  now  to 
pray  is  but  to  add  sin  to  sin  ;  yea,  now  to  pray,  seeing 
God  hath  cast  you  off,  is  the  next  way  to  anger  and 
ofFend  him  more  than  you  ever  did  before.  For  God, 
saith  he,  hath  been  weary  of  you  for  these  several  years 
already,  because  you  are  none  of  his  ;  your  bawling  in 
his  ears  hath  been  no  pleasant  voice  to  him,  and  there- 
fore he  let  you  sin  this  sin,  that  you  might  be  quite  cut 
off:  and  will  you  pray  still?'' 

This  the  devil  urged,  and  set  forth  that  in  Numbers, 
when  Moses  said  to  the  children  of  Israel,  that  because 
they  would  not  go  up  to  possess  the  land  when  God 
would  have  them,  therefore  for  ever  he  did  bar  them  out 
from  tlience,  though  they  prayed  they  might  with  tears. 
Num.  14  :  36,  etc.  As  it  is  said  in  another  place,  "The 
man  that  sins  presumptuously  shall  be  taken  from  God's 
altar,  that  he  may  die ;"  even  as  Joab  was  by  king  Sol- 
omon, when  he  thought  to  find  shelter  there.  Exodus 
21 :  14  ;  1  Kings  2  :  28-34.  These  places  did  pinch  me 
very  sore ;  yet,  my  case  being  desperate,  I  thought  with 
myself,  I  can  but  die  ;  and  if  it  must  be  so,  it  shall  once 
be  said  that  such  an  one  died  at  the  foot  of  Christ  in 
prayer.  This  I  did,  but  with  great  difiBculty,  God  doth 
know;  and  that  because,  together  with  this,  still  that 
saying  about  Esau  woulA  be  sot  at  my  heart,  even  like 


70    '  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

a  flaming  sword,  to  keep  the  way  of  the  tree  of  life,  lest 
I  should  take  thereof  and  live. 

Oh,  who  knows  how  hard  a  thing'  I  found  it  to  come 
to  God  in  prayer.  I  did  also  desire  the  prayers  of  the 
people  of  God  for  me  ;  but  I  feared  that  God  would  give 
them  no  heart  to  do  it ;  yea,  I  trembled  in  my  soul  to 
think  that  some  or  other  of  them  would  shortly  tell  me 
that  God  had  said  those  words  to  them  that  he  once  did 
say  to  the  prophet  concerning  the  children  of  Israel : 
"Pray  not  for  this  people,  for  I  will  not  hear  them," 
Jer.  11 :  14  ;  so  pray  not  for  him,  for  I  have  rejected 
him.  Yea,  I  thought  that  he  had  whispered  this  to  some 
of  them  already,  only  they  durst  not  tell  me  so  ;  neither 
durst  I  ask  them  of  it,  for  fear,  if  it  should  be  so,  it 
would  make  me  quite  beside  myself.  "  Man  knows  the 
beginning  of  sin,"  said  Spira,  "  but  who  bounds  the 
issues  thereof  ?" 

About  this  time  I  took  an  opportunity  to  break  my 
mind  to  an  ancient  Christian,  and  told  him  all  my  case  ; 
I  told  him  also  that  I  was  afraid  that  I  had  sinned  the 
sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  he  told  me  he  thought 
so  too.  Here  therefore  I  had  but  cold  comfort ;  but  talk- 
ing a  little  more  with  him,  I  found  him,  though  a  good 
man,  a  stranger  to  much  combat  with  the  devil.  Where- 
fore I  went  to  God  again,  as  well  as  I  could,  for  mercy 
still.  Now  also  did  the  tempter  begin  to  mock  me  in 
my  misery,  saying  that,  seeing  I  had  thus  parted  with 
the  Lord  Jesus,  and  provoked  him  to  displeasure  who 
would  have  stood  between  my  soul  and  the  flame  of 
devouring  fire,  there  was  now  but  one  way,  and  that 
was  to  pray  that  God  the  Father  would  be  a  mediator 
between  his  Son  and  me ;  that  he  would  be  reconciled 
again,  and  that  I  might  have  that  blessed  benefit  in  him 
that  his  saints  enjoyed.  Then  did  that  scripture  seize 
upon  my  soul :   "  He  is  of  on^-mind,  and  who  can  turn 


OR  GRACE  ABOUXDiX(;.  71 

him  ?"  Oil,  I  saw  it  was  as  easy  to  persuade  liiin  to 
make  a  new  covenant  or  a  new  Bible  besides  those  we 
have  ah-eady,  as  to  pray  for  such  a  thing.  This  was  to 
persuade  him  tliat  wliat  he  had  done  ah-eady  was  mere 
folly,  and  persuade  him  to  alter,  yea,  to  disannul  the 
whole  way  of  salvation ;  and  then  would  that  saying- 
rend  my  soul  asunder:  "Neither  is  there  salvation  in 
any  other  ;  for  there  is  none  other  name  under  heaven 
given  among-  men,  whereby  w^e  must  be  saved."  Acts 
4:12. 

Now  the  most  free  and  full  and  gracious  words  of 
the  gospel  were  the  greatest  torment  to  me  ;  yea,  noth- 
ing so  aflflicted  me  as  the  thought  of  Jesus  Christ ;  the 
remembrance  of  a  Saviour,  because  I  had  cast  him  off, 
brought  forth  the  villany  of  my  sin  and  my  loss  by  it  to 
mind  :  nothing  did  twinge  my  conscience  like  this  ;  every 
thing  that  I  thought  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  of  his  grace,  love, 
goodness,  kindness,  gentleness,  meekness,  death,  blood, 
promises,  and  blessed  exhortations,  comforts  and  conso- 
lations, went  to  my  soul  like  a  sword  ;  for  still  unto 
these  my  considerations  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  these  thoughts 
would  make  place  for  themselves  in  my  heart:  "Aye, 
this  is  the  Jesus,  the  loving  Saviour,  the  Son  of  God 
whom  you  have  parted  with,  whom  you  have  slighted, 
despised,  and  abused ;  this  is  the  only  Saviour,  the  only 
Redeemer,  the  only  one  that  could  so  love  sinners  as  to 
wash  them  from  their  sins  in  his  own  most  precious 
blood :  but  you  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  this  Jesus  ;  you 
have  put  him  from  you ;  you  have  said  in  3-our  Jieart, 
Let  him  go  if  he  will.  Now  therefore  j'ou  are  severed 
from  him  ;  you  have  severed  yourself  from  him  :  behold 
then  his  goodness,  but  yourself  to  be  no  partaker  of  it." 
"  Oh,"  thouglit  I,  "  what  have  I  lost ;  what  have  I  parted 
with  ;  what  has  disinherited  my  poor  soul  !  Oh,  it  is 
sad  to  be  destroyed  by  the  grace  and  mercy  of  God — to 


72  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

have  the  Lamb,  the  Saviour,  turn  lion  aucl  destroj'er." 
Rev.  ch.  6.  I  also  trembled,  as  I  have  said,  at  the  sight 
of  the  saints  of  God,  especially  at  those  that  greatly 
loved  him,  and  that  made  it  their  business  to  walk  con- 
tinually with  him  in  this  world;  for  they  did,  both  in 
their  words,  their  cai-riage,  and  all  their  expressions  of 
tenderness  and  fear  to  sin  against  their  precious  Saviour, 
condemn,  lay  guilt  upon,  and  also  add  continual  afflic- 
tion and  shame  unto  my  soul.  The  dread  of  them  was 
upon  me,  and  I  trembled  at  God's  Samuel.  1  Sam. 
16- 


OR  GRACE  AJ}UUNI)IX(;.  73 


CHAPTER   YIII. 

Now  also  tbe  tempter  began  afresh  to  mock  my  soul 
another  way,  saying  that  "Christ  indeed  did  pity  my 
case,  and  was  sorry  for  my  loss  :  but  forasmuch  as  1  had 
sinned  and  transgressed  as  I  had  done,  he  could  by  no 
means  help  me,  nor  save  me  from  what  I  feared ;  for  my 
sin  was  not  of  the  nature  of  theirs  for  whom  he  bled  and 
died,  neither  was  it  counted  with  those  that  were  laid  to 
his  charge  when  he  hung  on  the  tree.  Therefore,  unless 
he  should  come  down  from  heaven  and  die  anew  for  this 
sin,  though  indeed  he  did  greatly  pity  me,  yet  I  could 
have  no  benefit  of  him."  These  things  may  seem  ridicu- 
lous to  others,  even  as  ridiculous  as  they  were  in  them- 
selves ;  but  to  me  they  were  most  tormenting  cogita- 
tions :  every  one  of  them  augmented  my  misei'y,  that 
Jesus  Christ  should  have  so  much  love  as  to  pity  me 
when  yet  he  could  not  help  me  too ;  nor  did  I  think  that 
the  reason  why  he  could  not  help  me  was  because  his 
merits  were  weak,  or  his  grace  and  salvation  spent  on 
others  already,  but  because  his  faithfulness  to  his  threat- 
enings  would  not  let  him  extend  his  mercy  to  me.  Be- 
sides, I  thought,  as  I  have  already  hinted,  that  my  sin 
was  not  within  the  bounds  of  that  pardon  that  was  wrap- 
ped up  in  a  promise  ;  and  if  not,  then  I  knew  surely  that 
it  was  more  easy  for  heaven  and  earth  to  pass  away  tlian 
for  me  to  have  eternal  life.  So  that  the  ground  of  all 
these  fears  of  mine  did  arise  from  a  steadfast  belief  I  had 
of  the  stability  of  the  holy  word  of  God,  and  also  from 
my  being  misinformed  of  the  nature  of  my  sin.  But  OIi, 
how  this  would  add  to  my  aflliction,  to  conceive  that  1 
should  be  guilty  of  such  a  sin,  for  which  he  did  not  die. 
These  thoughts  did  so  confound  mo,  and  imprison  me. 


74  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

and  tie  mc  up  from  faith,  that  I  knew  not  what  to  do. 
B::t  Oh,  thought  I,  that  he  would  come  down  again  !  Oh 
that  the  work  of  man's  redemption  was  yet  to  be  done 
by  Christ ;  how  would  I  pray  him  and  entreat  him  to 
ciunt  and  reckon  this  sin  among  the  rest  for  which  he 
died.  But  this  scripture  would  strike  me  down  as  dead : 
"  Christ  being  raised  from  the  dead,  dieth  no  more  ;  death 
hath  no  more  dominion  over  him."  Rom.  6  :  9.  Thus  by 
the  strange  and  unusual  assaults  of  the  tempter  my  soul 
was  like  a  broken  vessel,  driven  as  with  the  winds,  and 
tossed  sometimes  headlong  into  despair  ;  sometimes  upon 
the  covenant  of  works,  and  sometimes  to  wish  that  the 
new  covenant  and  the  conditions  thereof  might,  so  far  as 
I  thought  myself  concerned,  be  turned  another  way  and 
changed.  But  in  all  these  I  was  as  those  that  jostle 
against  the  rocks,  more  broken,  scattered,  and  rent. 

Oh,  the  unthought-of  imaginations,  frights,  fears,  and 
terrors  that  are  eifected  by  a  thorough  application  of 
guilt  yielding  to  desperation  1  This  is  as  the  man  that 
hath  his  dwelling  among  the  tombs  with  the  dead,  who 
is  always  crying  out  and  cutting  himself  with  stones. 
Mark  5  :  2-5.  But,  I  say,  all  in  vain  ;  desperation  will 
not  comfort  him,  the  old  covenant  will  not  save  him. 
Nay,  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away  before  one  jot  or 
tittle  of  the  word  and  law  of  grace  will  fail  or  be  remov- 
ed. This  I  saw,  this  I  felt,  under  this  I  groaned  ;  yet 
this  advantage  I  got  thereby,  namely,  a  fai'ther  confir- 
mation of  the  certainty  of  the  way  of  salvation,  and 
that  the  Scriptures  were  the  word  of  God.  Oh,  I  cannot 
now  express  what  I  then  saw  and  felt  of  the  steadiness 
of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Rock  of  man's  salvation.  What 
was  done  could  not  be  undone,  added  to,  nor  altered.  I 
saw  indeed  that  sin  might  drive  the  soul  beyond  Christ, 
even  the  sin  which  is  unpardonable ;  but  woe  to  him 
that  was  so  driven,  for  the  word  would  shut  him  out. 


OR  UUACE  ABOrXDlNC.  7'. 

Thus  was  I  always  sinking,  whatever  I  did  lliink  or 
do.  So  one  day  I  walked  to  a  neighboring  town  and  sat 
down  upon  a  settee  in  the  street,  and  fell  into  a  very 
deep  pause  about  the  most  fearful  state  my  sin  had 
brought  me  to ;  and  after  long  musing,  I  lifted  up  my 
head,  but  niethought  I  saw  as  if  the  sun  that  sliineth  in 
the  heavens  did  grudge  to  give  light,  and  as  if  the  very 
stones  in  the  street  and  tiles  upon  the  houses  did  bend 
themselves  against  me.  Methought  that  they  all  com- 
bined together  to  banish  me  out  of  the  world.  I  was 
abhorred  of  them,  and  unlit  to  dwell  among  them,  or  be 
partaker  of  theii*  benefits,  because  I  had  sinned  against 
the  Saviour.  Oh,  how  happy  now  was  every  creature 
to  what  I  was  ;  for  they  stood  fast  and  kept  their  station, 
but  I  was  gone  and  lost. 

Then  breaking  out  in  the  bitterness  of  my  soul,  I 
said  to  my  soul  with  a  grievous  sigh.  How  can  God 
comfort  such  a  wretch  ?  I  had  no  sooner  said  it  but 
this  returned  upon  me  as  an  echo  doth  answer  a  voice, 
"This  sin  is  not  unto  death."  At  which  I  was  as  if  I  had 
been  raised  out  of  the  grave,  and  cried  out  again,  Lord, 
how  couldst  thou  find  out  such  a  word  as  this  ?  for  I  was 
filled  with  admiration  at  the  fitness  and  at  the  unexpect- 
edness of  the  sentence — the  fitness  of  the  word,  the 
rightness  of  the  timing  of  it ;  the  power  and  sweetness 
and  light  and  glory  that  came  with  it  also  were  marvel- 
lous to  me  to  find.  I  was  now  for  the  time  out  of  doubt 
as  to  that  about  whicli  I  was  so  much  in  doubt  before : 
my  fears  before  were  that  my  sin  was  not  pardonable,  and 
so  that  I  had  no  riglit  to  pray,  to  repent,  etc. ;  or  that  if 
I  did,  it  would  be  of  no  advantage  or  profit  to  me.  But 
now,  thought  I,  if  this  sin  is  not.  unto  death,  then  it  is 
pardonable  ;  therefore  from  this  I  have  encouragement  t.» 
come  to  God  by  Christ  for  mercy — to  consider  the  prom- 
ise of  forgiveness  as  that  which  stands  with  open  arms 


76  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

to  receive  nie  as  well  as  others.  This  therefore  was  a 
great  easement  to  my  mind,  to  wit,  that  my  sin  was 
pardonable — that  it  was  not  the  sin  unto  death.  1  John 
5  :  16,  IT.  None  but  those  that  know  what  my  trouble 
was  by  their  own  experience,  can  tell  what  relief  came  to 
my  soul  by  this  consideration ;  it  was  a  release  to  me 
from  my  former  bonds,  and  a  shelter  from  my  former 
storms.  I  seemed  now  to  stand  upon  the  same  ground, 
with  other  sinners,  and  to  have  as  good  right  to  the  word 
and  prayer  as  any  of  them. 

Now,  I  say,  I  was  in  hopes  that  my  sin  was  not  un- 
pardonable, but  that  there  might  be  hope  for  me  to  obtain 
forgiveness.  But  Oh,  how  Satan  did  now  lay  about  him 
for  to  bring  me  down  again.  But  he  could  by  no  means 
do  it,  neither  this  day  nor  the  most  part  of  the  next,  for 
that  sentence,  "This  sin  is  not  unto  death,"  stood  like  a 
mill-post  at  my  back ;  yet  towards  the  evening  of  the 
next  day  I  felt  this  word  begin  to  leave  me,  and  to  with- 
draw its  support  from  me  ;  and  so  I  returned  to  my  old 
fears  again,  but  with  a  great  deal  of  grudging  and  pee- 
vishness, for  I  feared  the  sorrow  of  despair ;  nor  could 
my  faith  long  retain  this  word.  But  the  n^xt  day  at 
evening,  being  under  many  fears,  I  went  to  seek  the 
Lord,  and  as  I  prayed  I  cried,  and  my  soul  cried  to  him 
in  these  words  with  strong  cries :  "  0  Lord,  I  beseech 
thee  show  me  that  thou  hast  loved  me  with  an  everlast- 
ing love."  I  had  no  sooner  said  it  than  with  sweetness 
this  returned  upon  me  as  an  echo  or  sounding  again  :  "I 
have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love."  Jer.  31  : 3. 
Now  I  went  to  bed  in  quiet ;  also,  when  awakened  the 
next  morning,  it  was  fresh  upon  my  soul,  and  I  believed 
it.  But  yet  the  tempter  left  me  not,  for  it  could  not  be 
so  little  as  a  hundred  times  tliat  he  that  day  did  labor  to 
break  my  peace.  Oh  the  combats  and  conflicts  that  I 
did  then  meet  with.      As  I  strove  to  hold  by  this  word, 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  77 

that  of  Esau  would  fly  in  my  face  like  lightning.  I 
would  be  sometimes  up  and  down  twenty  times  in  an 
houi' ;  yet  God  did  bear  me  out  and  keep  my  heart  upon 
this  word,  from  which  I  had  also,  for  several  days  togeth- 
er, very  much  sweetness  and  comfortable  hopes  of  par- 
don ;  for  thus  it  was  made  unto  me  :  "I  loved  thee  while 
thou  wast  committing  this  sin.  I  loved  thee  before,  I 
love  thee  still,  and  I  will  love  thee  for  ever." 

Yet  I  saw  my  sin  most  barbarous,  and  a  filthy  crime, 
and  could  not  but  conclude,  with  great  shame  and  aston- 
ishment, that  I  had  horribly  abused  the  holy  Son  of  God  ; 
wherefore  I  felt  my  soul  greatly  to  love  and  pity  him, 
and  my  bowels  to  yearn  towards  him,  for  I  saw  he  was 
still  my  friend,  and  did  reward  me  good  for  evil ;  yea, 
the  love  and  affection  that  then  did  burn  within  me  to 
my  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  did  work  at  this 
time  such  a  strong  and  hot  desire  of  revenge  upon  my- 
self, for  the  abuse  I  had  done  unto  him,  that,  to  speak  as 
I  then  thought,  had  I  a  thousand  gallons  of  blood  within 
my  veins,  I  could  freely  then  have  spilled  it  all  at  the 
command  and  feet  of  this  mj'^  Lord  and  Saviour. 

And  as  I  was  thus  musing,  and  in  my  studies  consid- 
ering how  to  love  the  Lord,  and  to  express  my  love  to 
him,  that  saying  came  in  upon  me :  "  If  thou,  Lord, 
shouldest  mark  iniquities,  0  Lord,  who  shall  stand? 
But  there  is  forgiveness  with  thee,  that  thou  mayest  be 
feared."  Psa.  130  :  3,  4.  These  were  good  words  to 
me,  especially  the  latter  part  thereof,  to  wit,  that  there 
is  forgiveness  with  the  Lord,  that  he  might  be  feared — 
that  is,  as  I  then  understood  it,  that  he  might  be  loved 
and  had  in  reverence ;  for  it  was  thus  made  out  to  me : 
that  "the  great  God  did  set  so  high  an  esteem  upon  the 
love  of  his  poor  creatures,  that  rather  than  he  would  go 
without  their  love,  lie  Avould  pardon  their  transgressions." 
And  now  was  tluit  word  i'liKilled  on  me,  and  I  was  also 


78  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

refreshed  by  it :  "  Then  shalt  thou  remember,  and  be  con- 
founded, and  never  open  thy  mouth  any  more  because  of 
thy  shame,  when  I  am  pacified  towards  thee  for  all  that 
thou  hast  done,  saith  the  Lord  God."     Ezek,  16  :  63. 

Thus  was  my  soul  at  this  time,  and  as  I  then  did 
think,  for  ever  set  at  liberty  from  being  afflicted  with  my 
former  guilt  and  amazement.  But  before  many  weeks 
were  gone  I  began  to  despond  again,  fearing  lest,  not- 
withstanding all  I  had  enjoyed,  I  might  be  deserted  and 
destroyed  at  the  last ;  for  this  consideration  came  strong 
into  my  mind:  that  "whatever  comfort  and  peace  I 
thought  I  might  have  from  the  word  of  the  promise  of 
life,  yet  unless  there  could  be  found  in  my  refreshment  a 
concurrence  and  agreement  with  the  Scriptures,  let  me 
think  what  I  will  thereof,  and  hold  it  never  so  fast,  I 
should  find  no  such  thing  at  the  end,  for  the  Scripture 
cannot  be  broken."  John  10  :  35.  Now  began  my  heart 
again  to  ache  and  fear  I  might  meet  with  disappointment 
at  last.  Wherefore  I  began  with  all  seriousness  to  ex- 
amine my  former  comfort,  and  to  consider  whether  one 
that  had  sinned  as  I  had  done,  might  with  confidence 
trust  upon  the  faithfulness  of  God  laid  down  in  these 
words  by  which  I  had  been  comforted,  and  on  which  I 
had  leaned  myself. 

But  now  were  brought  to  my  mind,  "  For  it  is  im- 
possible for  those  who  were  once  enlightened,  and  have 
tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift,  and  were  made  partakers  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  have  tasted  the  good  word  of  God, 
and  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come,  if  they  shall  fall 
away,  to  renew  them  again  unto  repentance."  "For  if 
we  sin  wilfully  after  that  we  have  received  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth,  there  remaineth  no  more  sacrifice  for 
sins,  but  a  certain  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment  and 
fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries." 
Even  "  as  Esau,  who  for  one  morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birth- 


on  (iHAci-:  ABoi mum;.  TU 

right.  For  ye  know  how  that  afterwards,  when  he  would 
have  inherited  the  blessing-,  he  was  rejected  ;  for  he  found 
no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully 
with  tears.''     Heb.  6  :  4-6  ;  10  :  27  ;  12  :  11. 

Now  was  the  word  of  the  gospel  forced  from  my  soul, 
so  that  no  promise  or  encouragement  was  to  be  found  in 
the  Bible  for  me  ;  and  now  would  that  saying  work  upon 
my  spirit  to  afQict  me  :  "  Rejoice  not,  0  Israel,  for  joy,  ■ 
as  other  people."  Hos.  9:1.  For  I  saw  indeed  there 
was  cause  of  rejoicing  for  those  that  held  to  Jesus  ;  but 
for  me,  I  had  cut  myself  off  by  my  transgressions,  and 
left  myself  neither  foothold  nor  handhold  among  all  the 
stays  and  props  in  the  precious  word  of  life.  And  truly 
I  did  now  feel  myself  to  sink  into  a  gulf,  as  a  house 
whose  foundation  is  destroyed  :  I  did  liken  myself  in 
this  condition  unto  the  case  of  a  child  that  was  fallen 
into  a  mill-pit,  who,  though  it  could  make  some  shift  to 
scramble  and  sprawl  in  the  water,  yet,  because  it  could 
find  hold  neither  for  hand  nor  foot,  therefore  at  last  it 
must  die  in  that  condition.  So  soon  as  this  fresh  assault 
had  fastened  on  my  soul,  that  scripture  came  into  my 
heart :  "  This  for  many  days  ;"  and  indeed  I  found  it  was 
so,  for  I  could  not  be  delivered  nor  brought  to  peace 
again  until  well-nigh  two  years  and  a  half  were  com- 
pletely finished.  Wherefore  these  words,  though  in 
themselves  they  tended  to  no  discouragement,  yet  to  me, 
who  feared  this  condition  would  be  eternal,  they  were 
at  some  times  as  a  help  and  a  refreshment  to  me :  for, 
thought  I,  many  days  are  not  for  ever — many  days  will 
have  an  end ;  therefore,  seeing  I  was  to  be  afflicted  not 
a  few,  but  many  days,  yet  I  was  glad  it  was  but  for 
many  days.  Thus,  I  say,  I  would  recall  myself  some- 
times, and  give  myself  a  help ;  for  as  soon  as  ever  the 
word  came  into  my  mind,  at  first  I  knew  my  trouble 
would  be  long ;  yet  tliis  would  be  but  sometimes,  for  I 


80  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

could  not  always  think  on  this,  nor  even  be  helped  by  it, 
though  I  did. 

Now  while  the  Scriptures  lay  befoi'e  me  and  laid  sin 
anew  at  my  door,  that  saying  in  Luke  18:1,  with  others, 
did  encourage  me  to  prayer.  Then  the  tempter  again 
laid  at  me  very  sore,  suggesting  that  neither  the  mercy 
of  God  nor  yet  the  blood  of  Christ  did  at  all  concern  me, 
nor  could  they  help  me  for  my  sin  ;  therefore  it  was  but 
in  vain  to  pray.  Yet,  thought  I,  I  will  pray.  But,  said 
the  tempter,  your  sin  is  unpardonable.  Well,  said  I,  I 
will  pray.  It  is  to  no  boot,  said  he.  Yet,  said  I,  I  will 
pray.  So  I  went  to  prayer  to  God ;  and  while  I  was  at 
prayer,  I  uttered  words  to  this  effect :  "  Lord,  Satan  tells 
me  that  neither  thy  mercy  nor  Christ's  blood  is  sufficient 
to  save  my  souk  Lord,  shall  I  honor  thee  most  by  be- 
lieving thou  wilt  and  canst ;  or  him,  by  believing  thou 
neither  wilt  nor  canst  ?  Lord,  I  would  fain  honor  thee 
by  believing  thou  wilt  and  canst."  And  as  I  was  thus 
before  the  Lord,  that  scripture  fastened  on  my  heart, 
"  0  man,  great  is  thy  faith,"  even  as  if  one  had  clapped 
me  (fa  the  back  as  I  was  on  my  knees  before  God ;  yet  I 
was  not  able  to  believe  this,  that  this  was  a  prayer  of 
faith,  till  almost  six  months  aftei',  for  I  could  not  think 
that  I  had  faith,  or  that  there  should  be  a  word  for  me  to 
act  faith  on  ;  therefore  I  would  still  be  as  sticking  in  the 
jaws  of  desperation,  and  went  mourning  up  and  down  in 
a  sad  condition. 

There  was  nothing  now  that  I  longed  for  more  than 
to  be  put  out  of  doubt  as  to  this  thing  in  question,  and 
,  as  I  was  vehemently  desiring  to  know  if  there  was  in- 
deed hope  for  me,  these  words  came  rolling  into  my 
mind  :  "Will  the  Lord  cast  off  for  ever  ?  and  will  he  be 
favorable  no  more  ?  Is  his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever  ? 
doth  his  promise  fail  for  evermore  ?  Hath  God  forgotten 
to  be  gracious  ?  hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mer- 


Oli  GRACE   ABOUNDING.  81 

cies?"  Psa.  77  :  7-9.  And  all  the  while  they  ran  in  my 
niind,  methou<yht  I  had  still  this  as  the  answer:  It  is  a 
question  whether  he  hath  or  no ;  it  may  be  he  hath  not. 
Yea,  the  interrogatory  seemed  to  me  to  carry  in  it  a  sure 
affirmation  that  indeed  he  had  not,  nor  would  so  cast  off, 
but  would  be  favorable  ;  that  his  promise  doth  not  fail, 
and  that  he  hath  not  forgotten  to  be  gracious,  nor  would 
in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercy.  Something  also  there 
was  upon  my  heart  at  the  same  time,  which  I  cannot 
now  call  to  mind,  with  which  this  text  did  sweeten  my 
heart,  and  make  me  conclude  that  his  mercy  might  not 
be  quite  gone,  nor  gone  for  ever. 

At  another  time  I  remember  I  was  again  much  under 
this  question,  whether  the  blood  of  Christ  was  sufficient 
to  save  my  soul  ;  in  which  doubt  I  continued  from  morn- 
ing till  about  seven  or  eight  at  night ;  and  at  last,  when 
I  was  as  it  were  quite  worn  out  with  fear  lest  it  should 
not  lay  hold  on  me,  these  wdi'ds  did  sound  suddenly  with- 
in my  heart,  "He  is  able."  But  methought  this  word  able 
was  spoke  loud  unto  me  ;  it  showed  a  great  word ;  it 
seemed  to  be  wi'it  in  great  letters,  and  gave  such  a  jos- 
tle to  my  fear  and  doubt — I  mean  for  the  time  it  tarried 
with  me,  which  was  about  a  day — as  I  had  never  had 
from  that  all  my  life,  either  before  or  after.     Heb.  7  :  25. 

But  one  morning,  as  I  was  again  at  prayer,  and  trem- 
bling under  the  fear  of  this,  that  "no  word  of  God  could 
help  me,"  that  piece  of  a  sentence  darted  in  upon  me, 
"My  grace  is  sufficient."  At  this  methought  I  felt  some 
stay,  as  if  there  might  be  hope.  But  Oh,  how  good  a 
thing  it  is  for  God  to  send  his  word ;  for  about  a  fort- 
night before  I  was  looking  on  this  very  place,  and  thdn 
I  thought  it  could  not  come  near  my  soul  with  comfort ; 
therefore  I  threw"  down  my  book  in  a  pet ;  then  I  thought 
it  was  not  large  enough  for  me ;  no,  not  large  enough ; 
but  now  it  was  as- if  it  had  arms  of  grace  so  wide  that 
•1* 


82  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

it  could  not  only  enclose  me,  but  many  more  besides. 
By  these  words  I  was  sustained,  yet  not  without  exceed- 
ing conflicts,  for  the  space  of  seven  or  eight  weeks,  for 
my  peace  would  be  in  it  and  out  sometimes  twenty  times 
a  day — comfort  now,  and  trouble  presently ;  peace  now, 
and  before  I  could  go  a  furlong,  as  full  of  fear  and  guilt 
as  ever  heart  could  hold  ;  and  this  was  not  only  now  and 
then,  but  my  whole  seven  weeks'  experience.  For  this 
about  the  sufficiency  of  grace,  and  that  of  Esau's  part- 
ing with  his  birthright,  would  be  like  a  pair  of  scales 
within  my  mind — sometimes  one  end  would  be  upper- 
most, and  sometimes  again  the  other,  according  to  which 
would  be  my  peace  or  trouble. 

Therefore  I  did  still  pray  to  God  that  he  would  come 
in  with  this  scripture  more  fully  on  my  heart,  to  wit, 
that  he  would  help  me  to  apply  the  whole  sentence,  for 
as  yet  I  could  not.  What  he  gave  me,  that  I  gathered  ; 
but  further  I  could  not  go  ;*for  as  yet  it  only  helped  me 
to  hope  there  might  be  mercy  for  me  :  "  My  grace  is  suf- 
ficient." And  though  it  came  no  further,  it  answered  my 
former  question,  to  wit,  that  there  was  hope ;  yet,  be- 
cause "for  thee"  was  left  out,  I  was  not  contented,  but 
prayed  to  God  for  that  also.  Wherefore  one  day,  when 
I  was  in  a  meeting  of  God's  people,  full  of  sadness  and 
terror,  for  my  fears  again  were  strong  upon  me,  and  as  I 
was  now  thinking  my  soul  was  never  the  better,  but  my 
case  most  sad  and  fearful,  these  words  did  with  great 
power  suddenly  break  in  upon  me  :  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee,  my  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,  my  grace  is  suf- 
ficient for  thee,  three  times  together.  And  Oh,  methought 
that  every  word  was  a  mighty  word  unto  me,  as  my,  and 
grace,  and  sufficient,  and  for  thee;  they  were  then,  and 
sometimes  are  still,  far  bigger  than  others  be.  At  which 
time  my  understanding  was  so  enlightened  that  I  was 
as  though  I  had  seen  the  Lord  Jesus  look  down  from 


OR  GRACE  ABUUNDIXii.  83 

heaven  through  the  tiles  upon  me,  and  direct  tliose  words 
unto  me.  This  sent  me  mourning-  home ;  it  bnjke  my 
heart  and  filled  me  full  of  joy,  and  laid  me  low  as  the 
dust,  only  it  stayed  not  long  with  me,  1  mean  in  this 
glory  and  refreshing  comfort ;  j'ct  it  continued  with  me 
for  several  weeks,  and  did  encourage  me  to  hope.  But 
as  soon  as  tliat  powerful  operation  of  it  was  taken  from 
my  heart,  that  other  about  Esau  returned  upon  me  as 
before  ;  so  my  soul  did  hang  as  in  a  pair  of  scales  again, 
sometimes  up,  and  sometimes  down  ;  now  in  peace,  and 
anon  again  in  terror. 

Thus  I  went  on  for  many  weeks,  sometimes  comfort- 
ed and  sometimes  tormented  ;  and  especially  sometimes 
my  torment  would  bo  very  sore,  for  all  those  scriptures 
aforenamed  in  the  Hebrews  would  be  set  before  me,  as 
the  only  sentences  that  would  keep  me  out  of  heaven. 
Then,  again,  I  would  begin  to  repent. that  ever  that 
thought  went  through  me  ;  I  would  also  think  thus  with 
myself;  "Why,  how  many  scriptures  are  there  against 
me  ?  There  are  but  three  or  four  ;  and  cannot  God  miss 
them,  and  save  me  for  all  of  them  ?"  Sometimes,  again, 
1  w^ould  think,  "  Oh,  if  it  were  not  for  these  three  or  four 
words  now,  how  might  I  be  comforted."  And  I  could 
hardly  forbear  at  sometimes  to  wish  them  out  of  the 
book.  Then  methought  I  would  sec  as  if  Peter  and 
Paul  and  John  and  all  the  holy  writers  did  look  with 
scorn  upon  me,  and  hold  me  in  derision  ;  and  as  if  they 
had  said  unto  me,  "All  our  words  are  truth,  one  of  as 
much  force  as  the  other.  It  is  not  we  that  have  cut  you 
off,  but  you  have  cast  away  yourself  There  is  none  of 
our  sentences  that  you  must  take  hold  upon  but  these, 
and  such  as  those:  'It  is  impossible.'  'There  remains 
no  more  sacrifice  for  sin.'  'And  it  had  been  better  for 
them  not  to  have  known  the  will  of  God,  than  after  they 
had  known  it,  to  turn  from  the  holv  commandment  do- 


84  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

livered  unto  them.'  For  'the  Scriptuve  cannot  be  bro- 
ken.'" Ileb.  6:4;  10:26;  2  Pet.  2:21;  John  10:35. 
Tliese,  as  the  elders  of  the  city  of  refuge,  I  saw  were  to 
be  the  judges  both  of  my  case  and  me,  while  I  stood 
with  the  avenger  of  blood  at  my  heels,  trembling  at 
their  gates  for  deliverance ;  also  with  a  thousand  fears 
and  mistrusts,  I  feared  that  they  would  shut  me  out  for 
ever.  Josh.  20  :  3,  4.  Thus  was  I  confounded,  not  know- 
ing what  to  do,  or  how  to  be  satisfied  in  this  question, 
"whether  the  Scriptures  could  agree  in  the  salvation  of 
my  soul."  I  quaked  at  the  apostles  ;  I  knew  their  words 
were  true,  and  that  they  must  stand  for  ever. 

And  I  remember  one  day,  as  I  was  in  divers  frames 
of  spirit,  and  considering  that  these  frames  were  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  several  scrij^tures  that  came  in  upon 
my  mind,  if  this  of  grace,  then  was  I  quiet ;  but  if  that 
of  Esau,  then  tormented.  Lord,  thought  I,  if  both  these 
scriptures  should  meet  in  my  heart  at  once,  I  wonder 
which  of  them  would  get  the  better  of  me.  So  methoughl 
I  had  a  longing  mind  that  they  might  both  come  togeth 
er  upon  me ;  yea,  I  desired  of  God  they  might.  Well, 
about  two  or  three  days  after,  so  they  did  indeed ;  they 
bolted  both  upon  me  at  a  time,  and  did  work  and  strug- 
gle strongly  in  me  for  a  while  ;  at  last  that  about  Esau's 
birthright  began  to  wax  weak  and  withdraw  and  van' 
ish,  and  this  about  the  sufficiency  of  grace  prevailed 
with  peace  and  joy.  And  as  I  was  in  a  muse  about  this 
thing,  that  scripture  came  in  i:pon  me  :  "  Mercy  rejoiceth 
against  judgment."  Jas.  2:13.  This  was  a  wonder  to 
me,  yet  truly  I  am  apt  to  think  it  was  of  God ;  for  the 
word  of  the  law  and  wrath  must  give  place  to  the  word 
of  life  and  grace,  because,  though  the  word  of  condemna- 
tion be  glorious,  yet  the  word  of  life  and  salvation  doth  far 
exceed  in  glory,  2  Cor.  3  : 8-1 1 ;  also  that  Moses  and  Elias 
must  both  vanish,  and  leave  Christ  and  his  saints  alone. 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDINU.  85 

This  scripture  did  also  most  swwtly  visit  my  soul: 
"And  liim  that  coiiieth  to  mc  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 
John  6  :  37.  Oh  the  comfort  that  1  found  from  this  word, 
"  in  no  wise."  As  if  he  had  said,  By  no  means,  for  noth- 
ing-, whatever  he  hath  done.  But  Satan  would  greatly 
]  ibor  to  ptdl  this  promise  from  me,  by  tellinj?  me  that 
Christ  did  not  mean  me  and  such  as  I,  but  sinners  of  a 
lower  rank,  that  had  not  done  as  I  had  done.  But  I 
woxdd  answer  him  again  :  "Satan,  here  is  in  these  words 
no  such  exception  ;  but  Iilm.  Iliat  covielh — him,  ony  him. : 
'him  thai  comcfh  to  mc.  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.'"  And 
this  I  well  remember  still,  that  of  all  the  slights  that 
Satan  used  to  take  this  scripture  from  me,  yet  he  never 
did  so  much  as  put  this  question:  "But  do  you  come 
aright?"  And  I  have  thought  the  reason  was,  because 
he  thought  1  knew  full  well  what  coming  aright  was,  for 
I  saw  that  to  come  aright  was  to  come  as  I  was,  a  vile 
and  ungodly  sinner,  and  so  cast  myself  at  the  feet  of 
mercy,  condemning*  myself  for  sin.  If  ever  Satan  and  I 
did  strive  for  any  word  of  God  in  all  my  life,  it  was  for 
this  good  word  of  Christ ;  he  at  one  end,  and  I  at  the 
other.  Oh,  what  work  we  made  !  It  was  for  this  in 
John,  t  say,  that  we  did  so  tug  and  strive  :  he  pulled, 
and  I  pulled  ;  but,  God  be  praised,  I  overcame  him  ;  I 
got  sweetness  from  it. 

But  notwithstanding  all  these  helps  and  blessed 
words  of  grace,  yet  that  of  Esau's  selling  his  birthright 
would  still  at  times  distress  my  conscience  ;  for  though 
I  had  been  most  sweetly  comforted,  and  that  but  just 
before,  yet  when  that  came  into  my  mind,  it  would  make 
me  fear  again  ;  I  could  not  be  quite  rid  thereof,  it  would 
every  day  be  with  me.  Wherefore  noAV  I  went  another 
way  to  work,  even  to  consider  the  nature  of  this  blas- 
phemous thought ;  I  mean,  if  I  siiould  take  the  words  at 
the  largest,  and  give  them  their  own  natural  force  and 


86  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

scope,  even  every  word  therein.  So  when  I  had  thus 
considered,  I  found  that  if  they  were  fairly  taken,  they 
would  amount  to  this  :  that  I  had  freely  left  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  to  his  choice,  whether  he  would  be  my  Sav- 
iour or  no  ;  for  the  wicked  words  were  these  :  Let  him 
go  if  he  will.  Then  that  scripture  gave  me  hope  :  "  I 
will  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee."  Heb.  13:5.  0 
Lord,  said  I,  but  I  have  left  thee.  Then  it  answered 
again,  "But  I  will  not  leave  thee."  For  this  I  thanked 
God  also.  Yet  I  was  grievously  afraid  he  would,  and 
found  it  exceeding  hard  to  trust  him,  seeing  I  had  so 
olfended  him.  I  should  have  been  exceeding  glad  that 
this  thought  had  never  entered  my  mind  ;  for  then  I 
thought  I  could  with  more  ease  and  freedom  in  abun- 
dance have  leaned  on  his  grace.  I  saw  it  was  with  me 
as  it  was  with  Joseph's  brethren  ;  the  guilt  of  their  own 
wickedness  did  often  fill  them  with  fears  that  their  broth- 
er would  at  last  despise  them.     Gen.  45  :  15,  16. 

Yet  above  all  the  scriptures  that  I  yet  did  meet  with, 
that  in  Joshua,  ch.  20,  was  the  greatest  comfort  to  me, 
Avhich  speaks  of  the  slayer  that  was  to  flee  for  refuge. 
And  if  the  avenger  of  blood  pursue  the  slayer,  then  they 
that  are  the  elders  of  the  city  of  refuge  "  shall  not  deliv- 
er him  into  his  hands,  because  he  smote  his  neighbor  un- 
wittingly, and  hated  him  not  aforetime,"  Josh.  20  : 5. 
Oh,  blessed  be  God  for  this  word.  I  was  convinced  that 
I  was  the  slayer,  and  that  the  avenger  of  blood  pursued 
me  I  felt  with  great  terror  ;  it  only  now  remained  that  I 
inquire  wliethcr  I  have  right  to  enter  the  city  of  refuge. 
So  I  found  that  he  must  not,  "  who  lay  in  wait  to  shed 
blood."  It  was  not  the  wilful  murderer,  but  he  who  un- 
wittingly did  it ;  he  who  did  it  unawares,  not  out  of 
spite,  or  grudge,  or  malice  ;  he  that  shed  it  unwittingly ; 
even  he  who  did  not  hate  his  neighbor  before.  Wliere- 
fore  I  thought,  verily  I  was  the  man  that  must  enter, 


on  GRACE  ADOUXDIXG.  87 

because  I  had  smitten  my  iiciglibor  "unwittingly,  and 
hated  him  not  aforetime."  I  liated  liim  not  aforetime  ; 
no,  I  prayed  unto  him,  was  tender  of  sinning'  against 
him ;  yea,  and  against  this  wicked  temptation  I  had 
strove  for  twelve  months  before  ;  yea,  and  also  when  it 
did  pass  through  my  heart,  it  did  it  in  spite  of  my  teeth. 
Wiiereforc  I  thought  I  had  a  right  to  enter  this  city  ;  and 
tlie  elders,  which  are  the  apostles,  were  not  to  deliver  me 
up.  This  therefore  was  great  comfort  to  me,  and  gave 
me  much  ground  of  hope. 

Yet  being  very  critical,  for  my  smart  had  made  mo 
so  tliat  I  knew  not  Avhat  ground  was  sure  enougli  to  bear 
me,  I  had  one  question  that  my  soul  did  mucli  desire  to 
be  resolved  about,  and  that  was,  "whether  it  be  possi- 
ble for  any  soul  that  hath  sinned  the  unpardonable  sin, 
yet,  after  that  to  receive  though  but  the  least  true  spir- 
itual comfort  from  God  through  Christ."  The  which, 
after  I  had  much  considered,  1  found  the  answer  was, 
Xo,  they  could  not ;  and  that  for  these  reasons :  First, 
because  those  that  have  sinned  that  sin  are  debarred  a 
share  in  the  blood  of  Christ ;  and  being  shut  out  of  that, 
they  must  needs  be  void  of  the  least  ground  of  hope, 
and  so  of  spiritual  comfort,  "for  to  such  there  remains 
no  more  sacrifice  for  sin."  Secondl}',  because  they  are 
denied  a  sliare  in  the  promise  of  life :  they  "  shall  never 
be  forgiven,  neither  in  this  world,  nor  in  that  which  is  t(f 
come."  Thirdly,  the  Son  of  God  excludes  them  also  from 
a  share  in  his  blessed  intercession,  being  for  ever  asham- 
ed to  own  them,  both  before  his  holy  Father  and  the 
blessed  angels  in  heaven.  Ileb.  10  :  2G  ;  Matt.  12:32; 
Mark  8 :  38. 

When  I  had  with  much  deliberation  considered  of  this 
matter,  and  could  not  but  conclude  that  the  Lord  had 
comforted  me,  and  that  too  after  this  my  wicked  sin. 
then  methought  I  durst  venture  to  come  nigh  unto  those 


88  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

most  fearful  and  terrible  scriptures  with  which  all  this 
"» v^hile  I  had  been  so  greatly  affrighted,  and  on  wliich  in- 
deed before  I  durst  scarce  cast  mine  eye,  yea,  had  much 
ado  a  hundred  times  to  forbear  wishing  them  out  of  the 
Bible,  for  I  thought  they  would  destroy  me  ;  but  now,  I 
say,  1  began  to  take  some  measure  of  encouragement  to 
come  clos«  to  them,  to  read  them  and  consider  them,  and 
to  weigh  their  scope  and  tendency.  The  which,  when  I 
began  to  do,  I  found  their  visage  changed,  for  they  look- 
ed not  so  grimly  as  before  I  thought  they  did.  And  first 
I  came  to  the  sixth  of  Hebrews,  yet  trembling  for  fear  it 
should  strike  me ;  which,  when  I  had  considered,  I  found 
that  the  falling  there  intended  was  a  falling  quite  away— 
that  is,  as  I  conceived,  a  falling  from  and  absolute  deny- 
ing of  the  gospel,  of  the  remission  of  sins  by  Jesus 
Christ ;  for  from  them  the  apostle  begins  his  argument. 
Heb,  6  :  4-6.  Secondly,  I  found  that  this  falling  away 
must  be  openly,  even  in  the  view  of  the  world,  even  so 
as  "  to  put  Christ  to  an  open  shame."  Thirdly,  1  found 
that  those  he  there  intended  were  for  ever  shut  up  of 
God,  in  blindness,  hardness,  and  impenitency.  "  It  is  im- 
possible they  should  be  renewed  again  unto  repentance." 
By  all  these  particulars  I  found,  to  God's  everlasting 
praise,  my  sin  was  not  the  sin  in  this  place  intended. 

First,  I  confessed  I  was  fallen,  but  not  fallen  away, 
that  is,  from  the  profession  of  faith  in  Jesus  unto  eternal 
life. 

Secondly,  I  confessed  that  I  had  put  Jesus  Christ  to 
shame  by  my  sin,  but  not  to  open  shame  ;  I  did  not  deny 
him  before  men,  nor  condemn  him  as  a  fruitless  one  be- 
fore the  world. 

Thirdly,  nor  did  I  find  that  God  had  shut  me  up,  or 
denied  me  to  come — though  I  found  it  hard  work  indeed 
to  come — to  him  by  sorrow  and  repentance.  Blessed  be 
God  for  unsearchable  grace- 


oil  (illACE   ABOUNDING. 


89 


Then  T  considered  tlic  words  in  the  tenth  chapter  of 
the  Hebrews,  and  found,  1.  That  the  wilful  sin  there 
mentioned  is  not  every  wilful  sin,  but  that  which  doth 
throw  off  Christ,  and  then  his  commandments  too.  2. 
That  it  must  be  done  also  openly,  before  two  or  three 
witnesses,  to  answer  that  of  the  law.  Heb.  10  :  28. 
3.  This  sin  cannot  be  committed  but  with  great  despite 
done  to  the  Spirit  of  grace— despising  both  the  dissua- 
sions from  that  sin  and  the  persuasions  to  the  contrary. 
But  the  Lord  knows,  though  this  my  sin  was  devilish, 
yet  it  did  not  amount  to  these 

And  as  touching  that  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  the 
Hebrews,  about  Esau's  selling  his  birthright,  though 
this  was  that  which  killed  me,  and  stood  like  a  spear 
against  me,  yet  now  I  did  consider,  1.  That  his  was  not 
a"hasty  thought  against  the  continual  labor  of  his  mmd, 
but  a  thought  consented  to,  and  put  in  practice  likewise, 
and  that  after  some  deliberation.  Gen.  25 :  34.  2.  It 
was  a  public  and  open  action,  even  before  his  brother,  if 
not  before  many  more :  this  made  his  sin  of  a  far  more 
heinous  nature  than  otherwise  it  would  have  been.  3. 
He  continued  to  slight  his  birthright:  ho  did  eat  and 
drink,  and  went  his  way ;  thus  Esau  despised  his  birth- 
right:  yea,  twenty  years  after,  hc^was  found  to  despise 
it^stilL  "  And  Esau  said,  1  have  enough,  my  brother  : 
keep  that  thou  hast  unto  thyself."     Gen.  33  : 9. 

Now  as  touching  this,  that  Esau  sought  a  place  of 
repentance,  thus  I  thought:  1.  This  was  not  for  the 
birthright,  but  the  blessing  ;  this  is  clear  from  the  apos- 
'tle,  and  is  distinguished  by  Esau  him.self :  he  hath  taken 
away  my  birthright,  that  is,  formerly,  and  now  he  hatli 
.  taken  away  my  blessing  also.  Gen.  27:36.  2.  Now 
this  being  thus  considered,  I  came  again  to  the  apostle 
to  sec  what  might  be  the  mind  of  God,  in  a-  New  Testa- 
ment style  and  sense,  concerning  Esau's  sin  ;  and  so  far 


90  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

as  I  could  conceive,  this  was  the  mind  of  God  :  that  the 
birthright  signified  regeneration,  and  the  blessing  the 
eternal  inheritance  ;  for  so  the  apostle  seems  to  hint : 
"  Lest  there  be  any  profane  person,  as  Esau,  who  for  one 
morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birthright ;"  as  if  ho  should  say, 
that  shall  cast  oif  all  those  blessed  beginnings  of  God 
that  at  present  are  upon  him  in  order  to  a  new  birth, 
lest  they  become  as  Esau,  even  be  rejected  afterwards, 
when  they  should  inherit  the  blessing.  For  many  there 
are  who  in  the  day  of  grace  and  mercy  despise  those 
things  which  are  indeed  the  birthright  to  heaven,  who 
yet,  when  the  deciding  day  appears,  will  cry  as  loud  as 
Esau,  "  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us  ;"  but  then,  as  Isaac  would 
not  repent,  no  more  will  God  the  Father,  but  will  say, 
"I  have  blessed  these,  yea,  and  they  shall  be  blessed;" 
but  as  for  you,  "  Depart  from  mc,  ye  workers  of  iniqui- 
ty."    Luke  13:  25-21 

When  I  had  thus  considered  these  scriptures,  and 
found  that  thus  to  understand  them  was  not  against,  but 
according  to  other  scriptures,  this  still  added  further  to 
my  encouragement  and  comfort,  and  also  gave  a  great 
blow  to  that  objection,  to  wit,  that  the  Scriptures  could 
not  agree  in  the  salvation  of  my  soul.  And  now  remain- 
ed only  the  hinder  part  of  the  tempest,  for  the  thunder 
was  gone  beyond  me,  only  some  drops  did  still 'remain 
that  now  and  then  would  fall  upon  me  ;  but  because  my 
former  frights  and  anguish  were  very  sore  and  deep, 
therefore  it  oft  befell  me  still  as  it  befalleth  those  that 
have  been  scared  with  fire.  I  thought  every  voice  was, 
Fire,  fire ;  every  little  touch  would  hurt  my  tender  con- 
science. 

But  one  day  as  I  was  passing  into  the  field,  and  that . 
too  with  some  dashes  on  my  conscience,  fearing  lest  yet 
all  was  not  I'ight,  suddenly  this  sentence  fell  upon  my 
soul :  Thy  righteousness  is  in  heaven.     And  methought, 


OR  (JRACE  ABOUNDINC;.  91 

withal,  I  saw  with  tlio  eyes  of  my  soul  Jesus  Christ  at 
God's  rig-ht  haiul  ;  ihoro,  I  say,  was  iny  righteousness  ; 
so  that  wherever  I  was,  or  whatever  1  was  doing,  God 
could  not  say  of  mo,  he  wants  my  righteousness,  for  that 
was  just  before  him.  I  also  saw,  moreover,  that  it  was 
not  my  good  frame  of  heart  that  made  my  rigliteousness 
better,  nor  yet  my  bad  frame  that  made  my  righteous- 
ness worse,  for  my  righteousness  was  Jesus  Christ  him- 
self, "the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever."  Ileb 
13:8. 

Now  did  my  chains  fall  olf  my  legs  indeed  I  was 
loosed  from  my  afflictions  and  irons  ;  my  temptations 
also  fled  away  ;  so  that  from  that  time  those  dreadful 
scriptures  of  God  left  off  to  trouble  me  ;  now  went  I  also 
home  rejoicing  for  the  grace  and  love  of  God.  So  when 
I  came  home,  1  looked  to  see  if  I  could  find  that  sentence, 
Thy  righteousness  is  in  heaven,  but  could  find  no  such 
saying;  wherefore  my  heart  began  to  sink  again,  only 
that  was  brought  to  my  remembrance  :  "  Of  him  arc  ye 
in  Christ  Jesus,  who  of  God  is  made  unto  us  wisdom, 
righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemption,"  1  Cor. 
1  :  30 :  by  this  word  1  saw  the  other  sentence  true ;  for 
by  this  scripture  I  saw  that  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  as  he 
is  distinct  from  us  as  touching  his  bodily  presence,  so 
he  is  our  righteousness  and  sanctification  before  God. 

Here  therefore  I  lived  for  some  time  very  sweetly  at 
peace  with  God,  through  Ch-.'st.  Oh,  metliotight,  Christ, 
Christ !  there  was  nothing  but  Christ  that  was  before  my 
eyes.  I  was  not  now  only  for  looking  upon  this  and  the 
other  benefits  of  Christ  apart,  as  of  his  blood,  burial,  or 
resurrection,  but  considering  him  as  a  whole  Christ,  as 
ho  in  whom  all  these  and  all  other  his  virtues,  relations, 
offices,  and  operations  met  together,  and  that  he  sat  on 
the  right  hand  of  God  in  heaven.  It  was  glorious  to  me 
to  see  his  exaltation,  and  the  worth  and  prevalency  of  all 


92  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

his  benefits,  aud  that  because  now  I  could  look  from  my- 
self to  him,  aud  would  reckon  that  all  those  graces  of 
God  that  now  were  green  on  me,  were  yet  but  like  those 
cracked  groats  and  four-pence-half-peuuies  that  rich  men 
carry  in  their  purses  when  their  gold  is  in  their  trunks 
at  home.  Oh,  I  saw  my  gold  was  in  my  trunk  at  home, 
in  Christ  my  Lord  and  Saviour.  Now  Christ  was  all — • 
all  my  righteousness,  all  my  sanctification,  and  all  my 
redemption. 

Further,  the  Lord  did  also  lead  me  into  the  mystery 
of  union  with  the  Sou  of  God — that  I  was  joined  to  him, 
that  I  was  flesh  of  his  flesh,  and  bone  of  his  bone ;  and 
now  was  that  a  sweet  word  to  me  in  Ephes.  5  :  30.  By 
this  also  was  my  faith  in  him  as  my  righteousness  the 
more  confirmed  in  me ;  for  if  he  and  I  were  one,  then 
his  righteousness  was  mine,  his  merits  mine,  his  victory 
also  mine.  Now  could  I  see  myself  in  heaven  and  earth 
at  once ;  in  heaven  by  my  Christ,  by  my  head,  by  my 
righteousness  aud  life,  though  on  earth  by  my  body  or 
person.  Now  I  saw  Christ  Jesus  was  looked  upon  of 
God,  and  should  also  be  looked  upon  by  us  as  that  com- 
mon or  public  person  in  whom  all  the  whole  body  of  his 
elect  are  always  to  be  considered  and  reckoned  ;  that  we 
fulfilled  the  law  by  him,  died  by  him,  rose  from  the  dead 
by  him,  got  the  victory  over  sin,  death,  the  devil,  and 
hell  by  him  ;  when  he  died,  we  died ;  and  so  of  his  resur- 
rection :  "  Thy  dead  men  shall  live  ;  together  with  my 
dead  body  shall  they  rise,"  saith  he.  And  again,  "After 
two  days  he  will  revive  us  ;  and  the  third  day  we  shall 
live  in  his  sight."  Isa.  ch.  26  ;  Hos.  6 :  2.  Which  is 
now  fulfilled  by  the  sitting  down  of  the  Son  of  man  on 
the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  in  the  heavens  ;  according 
to  that  to  the  Ephesians  :  He  "hath  raised  us  up  together, 
and  made  us  sit  together  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ 
Jesus."     Ephes.  2  :  6.     Ah,  these  blessed  considerations 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  9H 

ami  scriptures,  with  many  others  of  like  nature,  were  in 
those  days  made  to  spangle  in  mine  eye ;  so  that  I  have 
cause  to  say,  "Praise  ye  the  Lord  God  in  his  sanctuary  ; 
praise  him  in  the  firmament  of  his  jiower.  Praise  him 
for  his  mighty  acts  ;  praise  him  according  to  his  excel- 
lent o-rcatness."     Psa.  150  : 1,  2. 


94  BUNYAN'S  LIFE. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Having  thus,  in  few  words,  given  you  a  taste  of  the 
sorrow  and  affiiction  that  my  soul  endured  by  the  guilt 
and  terror  that  these  my  wicked  thoughts  did  lay  me 
under,  and  having  given  you  also  a  touch  of  n)y  deliv- 
erance therefrom,  and  of  the  sweet  and  blessed  comfort 
that  I  met  with  afterwards,  which  comfort  dwelt  about 
a  twelvemonth  with  my  heart,  to  my  unspeakable  admi- 
ration, I  will  now,  God  willing,  before  I  proceed  any  far- 
ther, give  you  in  a  word  or  two  what  I  conceive  was  the 
cause  of  this  temptation,  and  also  after  that,  what  advan- 
tage at  the  last  it  became  unto  my  soul. 

For  the  causes,  I  conceive  they  were  principally^  two, 
of  which  two  also  I  was  deeply  convinced  all  the  time 
this  trouble  lay  upon  me.  The  first  was,  for  that  I  did 
not,  when  I  was  delivered  from  the  temptation  that  went 
before,  still  pray  to  God  to  keep  me  from  the  tempta- 
tions that  were  to  come  ;  for  though,  as  I  can  say  in 
truth,  my  soul  was  much  in  prayer  before  this  trial  seiz- 
ed me,  yet  when  I  prayed  only,  or  at  the  most  princi- 
pally, for  the  removal  of  present  troubles,  and  for  fresh 
discoveries  of  his  love  in  Christ,  which  I  saw  afterwards 
was  not  enough  to  do,  I  also  should  have  prayed  that 
the  great  God  would  keep  me  from  the  evil  that  was  to 
come.  Of  this  I  was  made  deeply  sensible  by  the  prayer 
of  holy  David,  who,  when  he  was  under  present  mercy, 
yet  prayed  that  God  would  hold  him  back  from  sin  and 
temptation  to  come;  "for  then,"  saith  he,  "shall  I  be 
upright,  and  I  shall  be  innocent  from  the  great  trans- 
gression." Psa.  19:13.  By  this  very  word  was  I  galled 
and  condemned  quite  through  this  long  temptation. 

That  was  also  another  word  that  did  much  condemn 


UR  (JHACE  ABUUNI)IN(;.  95 

me  for  my  folly  in  the  neglect  of  tliis  duty  :  "  Ixt  us 
therefore  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  \vc 
may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of 
need."  Ileb.  4:16.  This  I  had  not  done,  and  therefore 
was  thus  suffered  to  sin  and  fall,  according  to  what  is 
written  :  "Pray  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation."  Au.l 
truly  this  very  thing  is  to  this. day  of  such  weight  and 
awe  upon  me,  that  I  dare  not,  when  I  come  before  the 
Lord,  go  off  my  knees  until  I  entreat  him  for  help  and 
mercy  against  the  temptations  that  are  to  come  ;  and  I 
do  beseech  thee,  reader,  that  thou  learn  to  beware  of  my 
negligence  by  the  afflictions  that  for  this  thing  I  did  for 
days  and  months  and  years  with  sorrow  undergo. 

Another  cause  of  this  temptation  was,  that  I  had 
tempted  God  ;  and  on  this  manner  did  I  do  it :  upon  a 
time  my  wife  was  great  with  child,  and  before  her  full 
time  was  come,  her  pangs,  as  of  a  woman  in  travail, 
were  fierce  and  strong  upon  her,  even  as  she  would  have 
immediately  fallen  into  labor  and  been  delivered  of  an 
untimely  birth.  Now  at  this  very  time  it  was  that  I  had 
been  so  strongly  tempted  to  question  the  being  of  God  ; 
wherefore,  as  my  wife  lay  crying  by  me,  1  said,  but  with 
all  secrecy  imaginable,  even  thinking  in  my  heart, 
"Lord,  if  now  thou  wilt  remove  this  sad  affliction  from 
my  wife,  and  cause  that  she  be  troubled  no  more  there- 
with this  niglit" — and  now  were  her  pangs  just  upon 
her — "  then  shall  I  know  that  thou  canst  discern  the  most 
secret  thoughts  of  the  heart."  I  had  no  sooner  said  it  in 
my  heart  but  her  pangs  were  taken  from  her,  and  she 
was  cast  into  a  deep  sleep,  and  so  continued  till  morn- 
ing. At  this  I  greatly  marvelled,  not  knowing  what  to 
think  ;  but  after  I  had  been  awake  a  good  while,  and 
heard  her  cry  no  more,  I  fell  asleep  also.  So  when  I 
awaked  in  the  morning  it  came  upon  me  again,  even 
what  I  had  said  in  my  heart  the  last  night,  and  how  the 


96  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

Lord  had  sliowcd  mc  that  he  knew  my  secret  thouglits, 
which  was  a  great  astonisliment  unto  me  for  several 
weeks  after. 

Well,  about  a  year  and  a  half  afterwards,  that  wick- 
ed, sinful  thought  of  which  I  have  spoken  before  went 
through  my  wicked  heart,  "Let  Christ  go  if  he  will." 
So  when  I, was  fallen  under  guilt  for  this,  the  remem- 
brance of  my  other  thought,  and  of  the  effect  thereof, 
would  also  come  upon  me  with  this  retort,  which  also 
carried  rebuke  along  with  it :  "  Now  you  may  see  that 
God  doth  know  the  most  secret  thoughts  of  the  heart." 
And  with  this,  that  of  the  passages  that  were  between 
the  Lord  and  his  servant  Gideon  fell  upon  my  spirit : 
how  because  that  Gideon  tempted  God  with  his  fleece, 
both  wet  and  dry,  when  he  should  have  believed  and 
ventured  upon  his  words,  therefore  the  Lord  did  after- 
wards so  try  him  as  to  send  him  against  an  innumerable 
company  of  enemies,  and  that  too,  as  to  outward  appear- 
ance, without  any  strength  or  help.  Judg.  1 : 1.  Thus 
he  served  me,  and  that  justly;  for  I  should  have  believ- 
ed his  word,  and  not  have  put  an  if  upon  the  all-seeing- 
ness  of  God. 

And  now  to  show  you  something  of  the  advantages 
that  I  also  gained  by  this  temptation  ;  and  first,  by  this 
I  was  made  continually  to  possess  in  my  soul  a  very 
wonderful  sense  both  of  the  blessing  and  glory  of  God 
and  of  his  beloved  Son.  In  the  temptation  that  went 
before,  my  soul  was  perplexed  with  unbelief,  blasphemy, 
hardness  of  heart,  questions  about  the  being  of  God, 
Christ,  the  truth  of  the  word,  and  certainty  of  the  world 
to  come  :  I  say,  then  I  was  greatly  assaulted  and  tor- 
mented with  atheism  ;  but  now  the  case  was  otherwise ; 
now  was  God  and  Christ  continually  before  my  face, 
though  not  in  a  way  of  comfort,  but  in  a  way  of  exceed- 
ing dread  and  terror.     The  glory  of  the  holiness  of  God 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  97 

d;el  at  lliis  tiiiio  break  ine  to  pieces,  and  the  bowels  and 
compassion  of  Christ  did  break  me  as  on  the  wheel ;  for 
I  could  not  consider  him  but  as  a  lost  and  rejected  Christ, 
the  remembrance  of  which  was  as  the  continual  break- 
ing of  my  bones. 

The  Scriptures  also  were  wonderful  unto  me  ;  I  saw  ^ 
that  the  truth  and  verity  of  them  were  the  keys  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven :  those  that  the  Scriptures  favor 
must  inherit  bliss  ;  but  those  that  they  oppose  and  con- 
demn must  perish  for  evermore.  Oh,  this  word,  "for 
the  Scriptures  carniot  be  broken,"  would  rend  the  caul  of 
my  heart;  and  so  would  that  other:  "Whose  sins  ye 
remit,  they  are  remitted  ;  but  whose  sins  ye  retain,  they 
are  retained."  Now  I  saw  the  apostles  to  be  the  elders 
of  the  city  of  refuge.  Josh.  20  : 4.  Those  that  they 
were  to  receive  in,  were  received  to  life  ;  but  those  that 
they  shut  out,  were  to  be  slain  by  the  avenger  of  blood. 
Oh,  one  sentence  of  the  Scripture  did  more  afflict  and 
terrify  my  mind — I  mean  those  sentences  that  stood 
against  me,  and  sometimes  I  thought  they  every  one 
did — more,  I  say,  than  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men 
that  might  come  against  me.  Woe  be  to  him  against 
whom  the  Scriptures  bend  themselves. 

B}'  this  temptation  I  was  made  to  see  more  into  the 
nature  of  the  promises  than  ever  I  had  before ;  for  I  now 
lay  trembling  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God,  continually 
torn  and  rent  by  the  thundering  of  his  justice.  This 
made  me,  with  careful  heart  and  watchful  eye,  with  great 
fearfulness  to  turn  over  every  leaf,  and  with  much  dili- 
gence, mixed  with  trembling,  to  consider  every  sentence, 
together  with  its  natural  force  and  latitude.  By  this 
temptation  also  I  was  greatly  liolden  off  from  my  former 
foolish  practice  of  putting  by  the  word  of  promise  wlien 
it  came  into  my  mind  ;  for  now,  though  I  could  not  draw 
that  comfort  and  sweetness  from  tlie  promise  which  1 

Pil  Prog.  .') 


98  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

liad  done  ut  other  times,  yet,  like  a  iiuui  sinking-,  I  would 
catch  at  all  I  saw.  Formerly  I  thought  I  might  not  med- 
dle with  the  promise  unless  I  felt  its  comfort ;  but  now 
it  was  no  time  thus  to  do,  the  avenger  of  blood  too  hard- 
ly did  pursue  me. 

Now  therefore  was  I  glad  to  catch  at  that  word, 
which  yet  I  feared  I  had  no  ground  or  riglit  to  own,  and 
even  to  leap  into  the  bosom  of  that  promise  that  yet  I« 
feared  did  shut  its  heart  against  me.  Now  also  I  would 
labor  to  take  the  word  as  God  hath  laid  it  down,  without 
restraining  the  natural  force  of  one  syllable  thereof 
Oh,  what  did  1  see  in  the  blessed  sixth  chapter  of  John : 
"And  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 
John  6:37.  Now  I  began  to  consider  with  myself  that 
God  had  a  bigger  mouth  to  speak  with  than  1  had  a 
heart  to  conceive  witli ;  I  thought  also  with  myself  that 
he  spoke  not  his  w^ords  in  haste,  or  in  an  unadvised  heat, 
but  with  infinite  wisdom  and  judgment,  and  in  very 
truth  and  faithfulness. 

I  would  in  these  days  often,  in  my  greatest  agonies, 
even  flounce  towards  the  promise,  as  the  horses  do  tow- 
ards sound  ground,  and  yet  stick  in  the  mire  ;  conclud- 
ing, though  as  one  almost  bereft  of  his  wits  through 
fear,  on  this  will  I  rest  and  stay,  and  leave  the  fulfilling 
of  it  to  the  God  of  heaven  that  made  it.  Oh,  many  a 
pull  hath  my  heart  had  with  Satan  for  that  blessed  sixth 
chapter  of  John.  I  did  not  now,  as  at  other  times,  look 
principally  for  comfort,  though  Oh  how  welcome  would 
it  have  been  unto  me  ;  but  now  a  word,  a  word  to  lean  a 
weary  soul  upon,  that  it  might  not  sink  for  ever,  it  was 
that  I  hunted  f8r.  Yea,  often  when  I  have  been  looking 
to  the  promise,  I  have  seen  as  if  the  Lord  would  refuse 
my  soul  for  ever ;  I  was  often  as  if  I  had  run  upon  the 
pikes,  and  as  if  the  Lord  had  thrust  at  me  to  keep  me 
from  him  as  with  a  fiamino"  sword.     Then  would  I  lliiiik 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  99 

of  Esther,  who  went  to  petition  tlie  kinj:^  contrary  to  the 
Uiw.  I  thought  also  of  HenlKuhad's  servants,  who  went 
with  ropes  upon  their  heads  to  their  ononiies  for  mercy. 
The  woman  of  Canaan  also,  that  would  not  be  daunted, 
though  called  dog-  by  Christ,  and  the  man  that  went  to 
borrow  bread  at  midnight,  were  also  great  encourage- 
ments unto  inc.  Esth.  4  :  IG  ;  1  Kings  20  :  31,  etc. ;  Matt. 
15  :  22,  etc. ;  Luke  11 :  5-8,  etc. 

I  never  saw  such  heights  and  deptlis  in  g-race  and 
love  and  mercy  as  1  saw  after  this  temptation — great 
sins  to  draw  out  great  grace;  and* whore  guilt  is  most 
terrible  and  fierce,  there  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ, 
when  showed  to  the  soul,  appears  most  high  and  mighty. 
When  Job  had  passed  through  his  captivity,  he  had 
twice  as  much  as  he  had  before.  Job  42:10.  Blessed 
be  God  for  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Many  other  things  I 
might  here  make  observation  of,  but  I  woidd  be  brief, 
and  therefore  shall  at  this  time  omit  them,  and  pray  God 
that  my  harms  ma}^  make  others  fear  to  offend,  lest  the}' 
also  be  made  to  bear  the  iron  yoke  as  I  did.  I  had  two 
or  three  times,  at  or  about  my  deliverance  from  this 
temptation,  such  strange  apprehensions  of  the  grace  of 
God,  that  I  could  hardly  bear  up  under  it ;  it  was  so 
out  of  measure  amazing,  when  I  th(jught  it  could  reacli 
me,  that  1  do  think  if  that  sense  of  it  had  abode  long, 
upon  me  it  would  liuvo  made  me  incapable  for  busi- 
ness. 

Xow  T  shall  go  forward  to  give  you  a  relation  of 
other  of  the  Lord's  dealings  with  me  at  simdry  other 
seasons,  and  of  the  temptations  I  then  did  meet  withal. 
I  shall  begin  with  what  I  ixwt  with  when  first  I  joined  in 
fellowship  with  the  i)eople  of  God  in  Bedford.  After  I 
liad  propounded  to  the  church  that  my  desire  was  to 
walk  in  the  order  and  ordinances  of  Christ  with  them, 
and  was  also  admitted  by  them,  while  I  thwight  of  that 


100  BUNYAN'S  LIFE,     . 

blessed  ordinance  of  Christ  wliich  was  liis  last  supper 
with  his  disciples  before  his  death,  that  scriptures,  "  Do 
this  in  remembrance  of  me,"  Luke  22:19,  was  made  a 
very  precious  word  unto  me,  for  by  it  the  Lord  did  come 
down  upon  my  conscience  with  the  discovery  of  his 
death  for  my  sins,  and  as  I  then  felt,  did  as  if  he  plunged 
me  in  the  virtue  of  the  same.  But  behold,  I  had  not 
been  long  a  partaker  at  that  ordinance,  but  such  fierce 
and  sad  temptation  did  attend  me  at  all  times  therein, 
both  to  blaspheme  the  ordinance  and  to  wish  some  dead- 
ly thing  to  those  that  then  did  eat  thereof,  that,  lest  I 
should  at  any  time  be  guilty  of  cons^ting  to  these 
wicked  and  fearful  thoughts,  I  was  forced  to  bend  my- 
self all  the  while  to  pray  to  God  to  keep  me  from  such 
blasphemies ;  and  also  to  cry  to  God  to  bless  the  cup 
and  bread  to  them,  as  it  were,  fi'om  mouth  to  mouth. 
The  reason  of  this  temptation,  I  have  thought  since, 
was  because  I  did  not  with  that  reverence  that  became 
me  at  first  approach  to  partake  thereof.  Thus  I  contin- 
ued for  three  quarters  of  a  year,  and  could  never  have 
rest  nor  ease  ;  but  at  the  last  the  Lord  came  in  upon  my 
soul  with  that  same  scripture  by  which  my  soul  was  vis- 
ited before;  and  after  that  I  have  been  usually  very 
well  and  comfortable  in  the  partaking  of  that  blessed 
ordinance,  and  have,  I  trust,  therein  discerned  the  Lord's 
body  as  broken  for  my  sins,  and  that  his  precious  blood 
hath  been  shed  for  my  transgressions. 

Upon  a  time  I  was  something  inclining  to  a  consump- 
tion, wherewith  about  the  spring  I  was  suddenly  and 
violently  seized  with  much  weakness  in  my  outward 
man,  insomuch  that  I  thought  I  could  not  live.  Now 
began  I  afresh  to  give  myself  up  to  a  serious  examina- 
tion of  my  state  and  condition  for  the  future,  and  of  my 
evidences  for  that  blessed  world  to  come  ;  for  it  hath,  I 
bless  the  name  of  God,  been  my  usual  course,  as  always. 


OR  (JRAC'E  ABOUNDING.  101 

so  especially  in  the  clay  of  aflliction,  to  ciKk-avor  to  keep 
my  interests  in  the  life  to  come  clear  before  mi<ic  eyes. 
But  I  had  uo  sooner  began  to  recall  to  mind  my  furmer 
experience  of  the  goodness  of  God  to  my  soul,  than  there 
came  flocking  into  my  mind  an  innumerable  company  of 
my  sins  and  transgressions  ;  among  which  these  were 
at  this  time  most  to  my  affliction,  namely,  my  deadness, 
dulness,  and  coldness  in  my  holy  duties  ;  my  wanderings 
of  heart,  my  weari.someness  in  all  good  things,  my  want 
of  love  to  G(jd,  his  ways,  and  people,  with  this  at  the 
end  of  all:  "Are  these  the  fruits  of  Christianity?  are 
these  tokens  of  j*-  blessed  man  ?'' 

At  the  apprehensions  of  these  things  my  sickness 
was  doubled  upon  me,  for  now  I  was  sick  in  my  inward 
man,  my  soul  was  clogged  with  guilt ;  now  also  were 
my  former  experiences  of  God's  goodness  to  me  quite 
taken  out  of  my  mind  and  hid,  as  if  they  had  never 
been  or  seen.  Now  was  my  soul  greatly  pinched  be- 
tween these  two  considerations  :  Live  I  must  not ;  die  I 
dare  not.  Now  I  sunk  and  fell  in  my  spirit,  and  was 
giving  up  all  for  lost ;  but  as  I  was  walking  up  and 
down  my  house  as  a  man  in  a  most  woful  state,  that 
word  of  God  took  hold  of  my  heart:  "Ye  are  justified 
freely  by  his  grace,  through  the  redemption  that  is  in 
Christ  Jesus."  Rom.  3  :  24.  But  Oh,  what  a  turn  it 
made  upon  me.  Now  was  I  as  one  awakened  out  of 
some  troublesome  sleep  and  dream  ;  and  listening  to 
this  heavenly  sentence,  I  was  as  if  I  had  heard  it  thus 
spoken  to  me:  "Sinner,  thou  thinkest  that  because  of 
thy  sins  and  infirmities  I  cannot  save  thy  soul ;  but  be- 
hold, my  Son  is  by  me,  and  upon  him  I  look,  and  not  on 
thee,  and  shall  deal  with  thee  according  as  I  am  pleased 
with  him."  At  this  I  was  greatly  enlightened  in  my 
mind,  and  made  to  understand  that  God  c(Mdd  justify  a 
sinner  at  any  time  ;  it  was  but  his  looking  upon  Christ, 


102  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

and  imputing-  lii.s  benefits  to  us,  and  tlie  work  was  forth- 
with done. 

And  as  I  Avas  thus  in  a  nuise,  tliat  scripture  also 
came  with  great  power  upon  my  spirit :  "Not  by  works 
of  rig-hteousness  that  we  have  done,  but  according-  to  his 
mercy  he  saved  us."  2  Tim.  1  :  9.  Now  was  I  got  on 
hig-h  ;  I  saw  myself  within  the  arms  of  grace  and  mercy ; 
and  thougli  I  was  before  afraid  to  think  of  a  dying  hour, 
yet  now  1  cried,  Let  mc  die ;  now  death  was  lovely  and 
beautiful  in  my  sight,  for  I  saw  we  shall  never  live  in- 
deed till  wo  be  gone  to  the  other  world.  Oh,  methought, 
this  life  is  but  a  slumber  in  comparison  with  that  above. 
At  this  time  also  I  saAv  more  in  these  words,  "heirs  oi" 
God,"  Kom.  8:1*1,  than  ever  I  shall  be  able  to  express 
while  I  live  in  this  world.  Heirs  of  God!  God  himself  is 
the  portion  of  the  saints.  This  I  saw  and  wondered  at, 
but  cannot  tell  you  what  I  saw. 

Again,  as  I  was  at  another  time  very  ill  and  weak  ; 
all  that  time  also  the  tempter  did  beset  me  strongly — 
for  I  find  he  is  much  for  assaulting  the  soul  when  it 
begins  to  approach  towards  the  grave ;  then  is  his  op- 
portunity— laboring  to  hide  from  me  my  former  experi- 
ence of  God's  goodness  ;  also  setting  before  me  the  ter- 
rors of  death  and  the  judgment  of  God,  insomuch  that  at 
this  time,  through  my  fear  of  miscarrying  for  ever,  should 
I  now  die,  I  was  as  one  dead  before  death  came,  and  was 
as  if  I  had  felt  myself  already  descending  into  the  pit. 
Methought  I  said,  "  There  is  no  way,  but  to  hell  1  must ;" 
but  behold,  just  as  1  was  in  the  midst  of  those  fears, 
these  words  of  the  angels  carrying  Lazarus  into  Abra- 
ham's bosom  darted  in  upon  me,  as  if  it  were  said,  "So 
shall  it  be  with  thee  when  thou  shalt  leave  this  world." 
This  did  sweetly  revive  my  spirits,  and  help  me  to  hope 
in  God,  which,  when  I  had  Avith  comfort  mused  on  a 
while,  that  word  fell  Avith  great  weight  upon  my  mind : 


OR  GRACE  ABOLXDIXC  1(J3 

"0  death,  where  is  tliy  sting-?  0  grave,  wljcre  is  tliy 
victory?"  1  Cor.  15  :  55^  At  tliis  I  becaino  both  well  in 
body  and  mind  at  once,  for  my  sickness  did  i)resently 
vanish,  and  I  walked  comfortably  in  my  work  for  God 
a-^ain. 

At  another  time,  though  just  before  I  was  pretty  well 
and  savory  in  my  spirit,  yet  suddeidy  there  fell  upon  nic 
a  great  cloud  of  darkness,  which  did  so  hide  from  me  the 
things  of  God  and  Christ  that  I  was  as  if  I  had  never 
sceu  or  known  them  in  my  life.  I  was  also  so  overrun 
in  my  soul  with  a  senseless,  heartless  frame  of  spirit, 
that  I  could  not  feel  my  soul  move  or  stir  after  grace 
and  life  by  Christ ;  1  was  as  if  my  loins  were  broken,  o- 
as  if  my  hands  and  feet  had  been  tied  or  bound  with 
chains.  At  this  time  also  I  felt  some  weakness  seizt. 
upon  my  outward  man,  which  made  still  the  other  afflic- 
tion the  more  heavy  and  uncomfortable  to  me. 

After  I  had  been  in  this  condition  some  three  or  four 
days,  as  I  was  sitting  by  the  fire  I  suddenly  felt  thi» 
word  to  sound  in  my  heart,  I  must  go  to  Jesus.  At  this 
my  former  darkness  and  atheism  fled  away,  and  the  bless- 
ed things  of  h(;aven  were  set  in  my  view.  While  I  was 
on  this  sudden  thus  overtaken  with  surprise,  "Wife," 
said  I,  "is  there  ever  such  a  scripture,  'I  must  go  to 
Jesus  ?'"  She  said  she  could  not  tell ;  therefore  I  stood 
musing  still,  to  sec  if  I  could  remember  such  a  place.  I 
had  not  sat  above  two  or  three  minutes  but  that  came; 
bolting  in  upon  me:  "And  to  an  innumerable  company 
of  angels  ;"  and  withal,  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Hebrews, 
about  the  mount  Sion,  was  set  before  mine  eyes.  Then 
with  joy  I  told  my  wife,  "Oh,  now  I  know,  I  know." 
Rut  that  night  was  a  good  night  to  me  ;  I  have  had  but 
few  better  :  I  longed  for  the  company  of  some  of  God's 
people,  that  I  might  impart  unto  them  what  God  had 
showed  me.     Christ  was  a  precious  Christ  to  my  sou! 


104  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

tliat  night ;  I  could  scarce  lie  in  my  bed  for  joy  and 
peace  and  triumph  through  Christ. 

This  great  glory  did  not  continue  upon  me  until 
morning,  yet  the  twelfth  chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  was  a  blessed  scripture  to  me  for  many  days 
together  after  this.  The  words  are  these  :  "Ye  are  come 
unto  mount  Sion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable  company  of 
angels,  to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first- 
born, which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God  the  Judge 
of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and 
to  Jesus  the  mediator  of  the  new  covenant,  and  to  the 
blood  of  sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better  things  than  that 
of  Abel."  Thi'ough  this  sentence  the  Lord  led  me  over 
and  over,  first  to  this  word,  and  then  to  that,  and  showed 
me  wonderful  glory  in  every  one  of  them.  These  words 
also  have  oft  since  that  time  been  great  refreshment  to 
my  spirit.     Blessed  be  God  for  having  mercy  on  me. 


PR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  105 


CHAPTER  X. 

And  now  I  am  speaking  of  my  experience,  I  will  in 
this  place  thrust  in  a  word  or  two  concerning  my  preach- 
ing the  word,  and  of  God's  dealing  with  me  in  that  par- 
ticular also.  After  I  had  been  about  five  or  six  years 
awakened,  and  been  helped  myself  to  see  both  the  want 
and  worth  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  and  also  enabled  to 
venture  my  soul  upon  him,  some  of  the  most  able  among 
the  saints  with  us — I  say,  the  most  able  for  judgment  and 
holiness  of  life  as  they  conceived,  did  perceive  that  God 
had  counted  me  worthy  to  understand  something  of  liis 
will  in  his  holy  and  blessed  word,  and  had  given  me 
utterance  in  some  measure  to  express  what  I  saw  to 
others  for  edification  ;  therefore  they  desired  me,  and 
that  with  much  earnestness,  that  I  would  be  willing  at 
some  times  to  take  in  hand  in  one  of  the  meetings  to 
speak  a  word  of  exhortation  unto  them.  The  which, 
though  at  the  first  it  did  much  dash  and  abash  my  spirit, 
j-et  being  still  by  them  desired  and  entreated,  I  consent- 
ed to  their  requests,  and  did  twice,  at  two  several  assem- 
blies, but  in  private,  though  with  much  weakness  and 
infirmity,  discover  my  gifts  among  them  ;  at  which  they 
not  only  seemed  to  be,  but  did  frequently  protest  as  in 
tlie  sight  of  the  great  God  they  were  both  affected  and 
comforted  ;  and  gave  thanks  to  the  Father  of  mercies  for 
the  grace  bestowed  on  me.  After  this,  sometimes  when 
some  of  them  did  go  into  the  country  to  teach,  they 
would  also  that  1  would  go  with  them  ;  where,  though 
a  5  yet  I  did  not,  and  durst  not  make  use  of  my  gifts  in 
an  open  way,  yet  more  privately  still,  as  I  came  among 
tlie  good  people  in  those  places,  I  did  sometimes  speak  a 
word  of  admonition  luito  them  also;  the  which  they,  as 
5* 


106  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

the  others,  received  with  rejoicing  at  the  mercy  of  God 
to  mc-ward,  professing  their  souls  were  edified  thereby. 

Wherefore,  to  be  brief,  at  last,  being  still  desired  by 
the  church,  after  some  solemn  prayer  to  the  Lord,  with 
fasting,  I  was  more  particularly  called  forth  and  appoint- 
ed to  a  more  ordinary  and  public  preaching  of  the  word, 
not  only  to  and  among  them  that  believed,  but  also  t.) 
offer  the  gospel  to  those  who  had  not  yet  received  the 
faith  thereof ;  about  which  time  I  did  evidently  find  in 
my  mind  a  secret  inclination  thereto,  though,  I  bless 
God,  not  for  a  desire  of  vainglory,  for  at  that  time  I 
was  most  sorely  afflicted  with  the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil 
concerning  my  eternal  state. 

But  yet  I  could  not  be  content  unless  I  was  found  in 
the  exercise  of  my  gift,  unto  which  also  I  was  greatly 
animated,  not  only  by  the  continual  desires  of  the  godly, 
but  also  by  that  saying  of  Paul  to  the  Corinthians  :  "I 
beseech  you,  brethren,  (ye  know  the  household  of  Steph- 
anas, that  it  is  the  first-fruits  of  Achaia,  and  that  they 
have  addicted  themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the  saints,) 
that  ye  submit  yourselves  unto  such,  and  to  every  one 
that  helpeth  with  us,  and  laboreth."  1  Cor.  16:15,  16. 
By  this  text  I  was  made  to  see  that  the  Holy  Ghost 
never  intended  that  men  who  have  gifts  and  abilities 
should  bury  them  in  the  earth  ;  but  rather  did  command 
and  stir  up  such  to  the  exercise  of  their  gift,  and  also 
did  commend  those  that  are  apt  and  ready  so  to  do. 
"They  have  addicted  themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the 
saints  :"  this  scripture  in  these  days  did  continually  run 
in  my  mind,  to  encourage  me  and  strengthen  me  in  this 
my  work  for  God  ;  I  have  also  been  encouraged  from 
several  other  scriptures  and  examples  of  the  godly,  both 
specified  in  the  word  and  in  other  ancient  histories.  Acts 
8:4;  18  :  24,  25  ;  1  Pet.  4  :  10  :  Rom.  12:6;  and  Fox's 
Acts  and  Monuments. 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  107 

"Whcrofoie,  though  of  myself  of  all  the  saints  tlie 
most  unworthy,  yet  I,  but  with  great  fear  and  trembling 
at  the  sight  of  my  own  weakness,  did  set  upon  the  work, 
and  did,  aecording  to  my  gifts  and  tlie  proportion  of  my 
faith,  preach  that  blessed  gospel  that  God  had  showed 
me  in  the  holy  word  of  truth  ;  which  when  the  country 
understood,  they  came  in  to  hear  the  word  by  hundreds, 
and  that  from  all  parts,  though  upon  divers  and  sundry 
accounts.  And  I  thank  God  he  gave  unto  me  some  meas- 
ure of  bowels  and  pity  for  their  souls,  which  also  did  put 
me  forward  to  labor  with  great  diligence  and  earnest- 
ness to  find  out  such  a  word  as  might,  if  God  would 
bless  it,  lay  hold  of  and  awaken  the  conscience,  in  which 
also  the  good  Lord  had  respect  to  the  desire  of  his  ser- 
vant ;  for  I  had  not  preached  long  before  some  began  to 
be  touclied,  and  be  greatly  afflicted  in  their  minds  at  the 
apprehension  of  the  greatness  of  their  sin  and  of  tlicir 
need  of  Jesus  Christ. 

I  first  could  not  believe  that  God  should  speak  by  me 
to  the  heart  of  any  man,  still  counting  myself  unworthy  ; 
yet  those  who  were  thus  touched  would  love  me  and 
have  a  particular  respect  for  me :  and  though  I  did  put 
it  from  me  that  they  should  be  awakened  by  me,  still 
they  would  confess  it,  and  affirm  it  ■before  the  saints  of 
God  ;  they  would  also  bless  God  for  me,  unworthy  Avretch 
that  I  am,  and  comit  me  God's  instrument  that  showed 
to  them  the  way  of  salvation.  Wherefore,  seeing  them 
in  both  their  words  and  deeds  to  be  so  constant,  and 
also  in  their  hearts  so  earnestly  pressing  after  the  know- 
ledge of  Jesus  Christ,  rejoicing  that  ever  God  did  send 
me  where  they  were,  then  I  began  to  conclude  it  might 
be  so,  that  God  had  owned  in  his  work  such  a  foolish  one 
as  I ;  and  then  came  that  word  of  God  to  my  heart  with 
much  sweet  ix'freshmcnt :  "  The  blessing  of  them  that 
are  ready  to  perish  is  come  upon  me  ;  yea,  I  caused  the 


108  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy."  Job  29 :  13.  At  this 
therefore  I  rejoiced  ;  yea,  the  tears  of  those  whom  God 
did  awaken  by  my  preaching  would  be  both  solace  and 
encouragement  to  me.  I  thought  on  these  sayings : 
"  Who  is  he  that  maketh  me  glad,  but  the  same  that  is 
made  sorry  by  me  ?"  and  again,  "  Though  I  be  not  an 
apostle  to  others,  yet  doubtless  I  am  unto  you ;  for  the 
seal  of  my  apostleship  are  ye  in  the  Lord."  2  Cor.  2:2; 
1  Cor.  9 :  2.  These  things  therefore  were  as  another 
argument  unto  me  that  God  had  called  me  to,  and  stood 
by  me  in  this  work. 

In  my  preaching  of  the  word  I  took  special  notice  of 
this  one  thing,  namely,  that  the  Lord  did  lead  me  to  be- 
gin where  his  word  begins — with  sinners ;  that  is,  to 
condemn  all  flesh,  and  to  open  and  allege  that  the  curse 
of  God  by  the  law  doth  belong  to  and  lay  hold  on  all 
men  as  they  come  into  the  world,  because  of  sin.  Now 
this  part  of  my  work  I  fulfilled  with  great  earnestness, 
for  the  terrors  of  the  law  and  guilt  for  my  transgressions 
lay  heavy  on  my  conscience  ;  I  preached  what  I  felt, 
what  I  smartingly  did  feel,  even  that  under  which  my 
poor  soul  did  groan  and  tremble  to  astonishment.  In- 
deed, I  have  been  as  one  sent  to  them  from  the  dead ;  I 
went  myself  in  chains  to  preach  to  them  in  chains,  and 
carried  that  fire  in  my  own  conscience  that  I  persuaded 
them  to  be  aware  of  I  can  truly  say,  and  that  without 
dissembling,  that  when  I  have  been  to  preach  I  have 
gone  full  of  guilt  and  terror,  even  to  the  pulpit-door,  and 
there  it  hath  been  taken  off,  and  I  have  been  at  liberty 
in  my  mind  until  I  have  done  my  work ;  and  then  inune- 
diately,  even  before  I  could  get  down  the  pulpit  stairs,  I 
have  been  as  bad  as  I  was  before ;  yet  God  carried  me 
on,  but  surely  with  a  strong  hand,  for  neither  guilt  no*' 
hell  could  take  me  off  my  work. 

Thus  I  went  on  for  the  space  of  two  years,  crying 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  109 

out  against  men's  sins,  and  tlieir  fearful  state  because  of 
them  ;  after  which  the  Lord  came  in  upon  my  soul  with 
some  sure  peace  and  comfort  through  Christ,  for  he  did 
g-ive  me  many  sweet  discoveries  of  his  blessed  grace 
through  him  ;  wherefore  now  I  altered  in  my  preacliing, 
f  »r  still  I  preached  what  I  saw  and  felt :  now  therefore 
I  did  much  labor  to  hold  forth  Jesus  Christ  in  all  his 
offices,  relations,  and  benefits  unto  the  world,  and  did 
strive  also  to  discover,  to  condemn,  and  remove  those 
false  supports  and  props  on  which  the  world  doth  both 
lean,  and  by  them  fall  and  perish.  On  these  things  also 
I  stayed  as  long  as  on  the  other. 

iVfter  this  God  led  me  into  something  of  the  mystery 
of  the  union  of  Christ ;  wherefore  that  I  discovered  and 
showed  to  them  also.  And  when  I  had  travelled  through 
these  three  chief  points  of  the  word  of  God,  about  the 
space  of  five  years  or  more,  I  was  caught  in  my  present 
practice  and  cast  into  prison,  where  I  have  lain  above  as 
long  again,  to  confirm  the  truth  by  way  of  suffering,  as 
I  was  before  in  testifying  of  it  according  to  the  Scrip- 
tures in  a  way  of  preaching.  When  I  have  been  preach- 
ing, I  thank  God  my  heart  hath  often,  all  the  time  of  this 
and  the  other  exercises,  with  great  earnestness  cried  to 
God  that  he  would  make  the  word  effectual  to  the  salva- 
tion of  souls,  still  being  grieved  lest  the  enemy  should 
take  the  word  away  from  the  conscience,  and  so  it  should 
become  unfruitful ;  wherefore  I  labored  so  to  speak  the 
word  as  that  thereby,  if  it  were  possible,  the  sin  and 
person  guilty  might  be  particularized  by  it. 

Also,  when  I  have  done  the  exercise,  it  hath  gone  to 
my  heart  to  think  the  word  should  now  fall  as  rain  on 
stony  places,  still  wishing  from  my  heart,  "  Oh  that  they 
who  have  heard  me  speak  this  day  did  but  see  as  I  do 
what  sin,  death,  hell,  and  the  curse  of  God  are  ;  and  also 
what  the  grace  and  love  and  mercy  of  God  are,  through 


110  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

Christ,  to  men  in  such  a  case  as  they  are,  who  are  yet 
estranged  from  him."  And  indeed  I  did  often  say  in  my 
heart  before  the  Lord,  that  if  to  be  hanged  up  presently 
before  their  eyes  would  be  a  means  to  awaken  them  and 
confirm  them  in  the  truth,  I  gladly  should  consent  to  it ; 
for  1  have  been  in  my  preacliing,  especially  when  I  have 
been  engaged  in  the  doctrine  of  life  by  Christ  without 
works,  as  if  an  angel  of  God  had  stood  b}^  at  my  back  to 
encourage  me.  Oh,  it  hath  been  with  such  power  and 
heavenly  evidence  upon  my  own  soul  while  I  have  been 
laboring  to  unfold  it,  to  demonstrate  it,  and  to  fasten  it 
upon  the  consciences  of  others,  that  I  could  not  be  con- 
tented with  saying,  I  believe  and  am  sure ;  methought 
I  was  more  than  sure,  if  it  be  lawful  so  to  express  my- 
self, that  those  things  which  then  I  asserted  were  true. 

When  I  first  went  to  preach  the  word  abroad,  the 
doctors  and  priests  of  the  country  did  open  wide  against 
me  ;  but  I  was  persuaded  of  this,  not  to  render  railing 
for  railing,  but  to  see  how  many  of  these  carnal  profes- 
sors I  could  convince  of  their  miserable  state  by  the  law, 
and  of  the  want  and  worth  of  Christ ;  for,  thought  I, 
this  shall  answer  for  me  in  time  to  come,  when  they  shall 
be  for  my  hire  before  tlieir  face.  Gen.  30  :  33.  I  never 
cared  to  meddle  with  things  that  were  controverted  and 
in  dispute  among  the  saints,  especially  things  of  the 
lowest  nature ;  j^et  it  pleased  me  much  to  contend  with 
great  earnestness  for  the  word  of  faith,  and  remission  of 
sins  by  the  death  and  sufferings  of  Jesus  ;  but,  I  say,  as 
to  other  things,  I  would  let  them  alone,  because  I  saw 
they  engendered  strife,  and  because  that  they  neither  in 
doing  nor  in  leaving  undone  did  commend  us  to  God  to 
be  his.  Besides,  I  saw  my  work  before  me  did  run  into 
another  channel,  even  to  carry  an  awakening  word  ;  to 
that,  therefore,  I  did  stick  and  adhere.  I  never  endeavor- 
ed to  nor  durst  make  use  of  other  men's  lines,  Rom 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  Ill 

15:18,  thoug-li  I  condemn  not  all  tliat  do,  for  I  verily 
thoug-ht  and  found  by  experience  that  what  was  taught 
me  by  the  word  and  Spirit  of  Christ  could  be  spoken, 
maintained,  and  stood  to  by  the  soundest  and  best  estab- 
lished conscience  ;  ftnd  though  I  will  not  now  speak  all 
that  I  know  in  this  matter,  yet  my  experience  hatli  more 
interest  in  that  text  of  Scripture,  Gal.  1:11,  12,  than 
many  among  men  are  aware. 

If  any  of  those  who  were  awakened  by  my  ministry 
did  after  that  fall  back,  as  sometimes  too  many  did,  1 
can  truly  say  their  loss  hath  been  more  to  me  than  if  my 
own  children,  begotten  of  my  own  body,  had  been  going 
to  their  grave.  I  think  verily  I  may  speak  it  without 
offence  to  the  Lord,  nothing  has  gone  so  near  me  as  that,  - 
unless  it  was  the  fear  of  the  loss  of  the  salvation  of  my 
own  sold.  I  have  counted  as  if  I  had  goodly  buildings 
and  lordships  in  those,  places  where  my  children  were 
born.  My  heart  hath  been  so  wrapped  up  in  the  glory 
of  this  excellent  work,  that  I  counted  myself  more  bless- 
ed and  honored  of  God  by  this,  than  if  he  had  made  me 
the  emperor  of  the  Christian  world,  or  the  lord  of  all  the 
glory  pf  the  earth  without  it.  Oh  these  words  :  "  lie 
that  converteth  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  ways  doth 
save  a  soul  from  death."  "The  fruit  of  the  righteous  is 
a  tree  of  life  ;  and  he  that  winneth  sduls  is  wise."  "  They 
that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firma- 
ment ;  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  tha 
stars  for  ever  and  ever."  "  For  what  is  our  hope,  or  joy, 
or  crown  of  rejoicing?  Arc  not  even  ye  in  the  presence 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  at  his  coming  ?  For  ye  are  ouij 
glory  and  joy."  These,  I  say,  with  many  others  of  a 
like  nature,  have  been  great  refreshments  to  me.  Jas. 
5  :  20  ;  Prov.ll  :  30  ;  Dan.  12  :  3  ;  1  Thess.  2  :  19,  20. 

I  have  observed  that  where  I  have  had  a  work  to  do 
for  God,  I  have  had  first,  as  it  w^ere,  the  going  of  God 


112  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

upon  my  spirit  to  desire  I  might  preach  there.  I  have 
also  observed  that  such  and  such  souls  in  particular 
have  been  strongly  set  upon  my  heart,  and  I  stirred  up 
to  wish  for  their  salvation  ;  and  that  those  very  souls 
have  after  this  been  given  as  the  fruits  of  my  ministry. 
I  have  observed  that  a  word  cast  in  by  the  by  hath  done 
more  execution  in  a  sermon,  than  all  that  was  spoken 
besides.  Sometimes  also,  when  I  have  thought  I  did  no 
good,  then  I  did  most  of  all ;  and  at  other  times,  when  I 
thought  I  should  catch  them,  I  have  fished  for  nothing. 

I  have  also  observed  that  where  there  has  been  a  work 
to  do  upon  sinners,  there  the  devil  hath  begun  to  roar  in 
the  hearts  and  by  the  mouths  of  his  servants  ;  yea,  often- 
times when  the  wicked  world  hath  raged  most,  there  have 
been  souls  awakened  by  the  word :  I  could  instance  par- 
ticulars, but  I  forbear. 

My  great  desire  in  my  fulfilling  my  ministry  was  to 
get  into  the  darkest  places  of  the  country,  even  among 
.those  people  that  were  farthest  off  of  profession  ;  yet 
not  because  I  could  not  endure  the  light,  for  I  feared  not 
to  show  my  gospel  to  any,  but  because  I  found  my  spirit 
did  lean  most  after  awakening  and  converting  work,  and 
the  word  that  I  carried  did  lean  itself  most  that  way 
also.  "Yea,  so  have  I  strived  to  preach  the  gospel,  not 
where  Christ  was  named,  lest  I  should  build  upon  an- 
other man's  foundation."     Rom.  15  :  20. 

In  my  preaching  I  have  really  been  in  pain,  and  have, 
as  it  were,  travailed  to  bring  forth  children  to  God  ;  nei- 
ther could  I  be  satisfied  unless  some  fruits  did  appear  in 
my  work.  If  I  were  fruitless,  it  mattered  not  who  com- 
mended me  ;  but  if  I  were  fruitful,  I  cared  not  who  did 
condemn.  I  have  thought  of  that:  "Lo,  children  are  a 
lieritage  of  the  Lord  ;  and  the  fruit  of  the  womb  is  his 
reward.  As  arrows  are  in  the  hand  of  a  mighty  man, 
so  are  children  of  the  youth.     Happy  is  the  man  that 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDlXi;.  113 

hath  his  quiver  full  of  tlioin  ;  tlicy  shall  not  bo  ashamed, 
but  thoy  shall  speak  Avith  the  enemies  in  the  gate."  I'sa. 
127  :  3-5.  It  pleased  me  nothing  to  see  people  drink  in 
my  opinions,  if  they  seemed  ignorant  of  Jesus  Christ  and 
the  worth  of  their  own  salvation.  Sound  conviction  for 
Bin,  especially  for  unbelief,  and  a  heart  set  on  fire  to  be 
saved  by  Christ,  with  strong  breathings  after  a  truly 
sanctified  soul,  this  it  was  that  delighted  me  ;  those 
were  the  souls  I  counted  bless'cd. 

But  in  this  work,  as  in  all  others,  I  liad  my  tempta- 
tions attending  me,  and  that  of  divers  kinds  ;  as  some- 
times I  would  be  assaulted  with  great  discouragement 
therein,  fearing  that  I  should  not  be  able  to  speak  a 
word  at  all  to  edification,  nay,  that  I  should  not  be  able 
to  speak  sense  to  the  people ;  at  which  times  I  would 
have  such  a  strange  faintness  and  strengthlessness  seize 
upon  my  body,  that  my  legs  have  scarce  been  able  to 
carry  mo  to  the  place  of  exercise. 

Sometimes,  again,  when  I  have  been  preaching,  I 
have  been  violently  assaulted  with  thoughts  of  blasphe- 
my, and  strongly  tempted  to  speak  the  words  with  my 
mouth  before  the  congregation.  I  have  also  at  times, 
even  when  I  have  begun  to  speak  the  word  with  much 
clearness,  evidence,  and  libert}^  of  speech,  yet  been,  be- 
fore the  ending  of  that  opportunity,  so  blinded  and  so 
estranged  from  the  things  I  have  been  speakbig,  and 
have  been  also  so  straitened  in  my  speech  as  to  utter- 
ance before  the  people,  that  I  have  been  as  if  I  had  not 
kjiown  or  remembered  what  I  have  been  about,  or  as  if 
my  head  had  been  in  a  bag  all  the  time  of  my  exercise. 

Again,   when  as  sometimes  I  have  been  about  to 
preach  upon  some  smart  and  searching  portion  of  the 
word,  I  have  found  the  tempter  suggest,  "What,  will 
you  preach  this?     This  condemns  yourself;  of  this  your  • 
own  soul  is  guilty ;  wherefore  preach  not  of  this  at  all. 


114  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

or  if  you  do,  yet  so  mince  it  as  to  make  way  for  your 
own  escape  ;  lest,  instead  of  awakening  others,  you  lay 
that  guilt  upon  your  own  soul  that  you  will  never  get 
from  under."  But,  I  thank  the  Lord,  I  have  been  kept 
from  consenting  to  these  so  horrid  suggestions,  and  have 
rather,  as  Samson,  bowed  myself  with  all  my  might  to 
condemn  sin  and  transgression  wherever  I  found  it ;  yea, 
though  therein  also  I  did  bring  guilt  upon  my  own  con- 
science. Let  me  die,  thought  I,  with  the  Philistines, 
Judg.  16  :  30,  rather  than  deal  corruptly  with  the  blessed 
word  of  God.  "Thou  that  teachest  another,  teachest 
thou  not  thyself?"  It  is  far  better  then  to  judge  thyself, 
even  by  preaching  plainly  unto  others,  than  that  thou, 
to  save  thyself,  imprison  the  truth  in  unrighteousness. 
Blessed  be  God  for  his  help  also  in  this. 

I  have  also,  while  foimd  in  this  blessed  work  of  Christ, 
been  often  tempted  to  pride  and  liftings  up  of  heart ;  and 
though  I  dare  not  say  I  have  not  been  affected  with  this, 
yet  truly  the  Lord  of  his  precious  mercy  hath  so  dealt 
with  me,  that  for  the  most  part  I  have  had  but  small 
desire  to  give  way  to  such  a  thing ;  for  it  hath  been  my 
every  day's  portion  to  be  let  into  the  evil'of  my  own 
heart,  and  still  made  to  see  such  a  multitude  of  corrup- 
tions and  infirmities  therein,  that  it  hath  caused  hanging 
down  of  the  head  under  all  my  gifts  and  attainments.  I 
have  felt  this  thorn  in  the  flesh  the  very  mercy  of  God  to 
me.     2  Cor.  12  :  8. 

I  have  also  had  together  with  this  some  notable  place 
or  other  of  the  word  presented  before  me,  which  word 
hath  contained  in  it  some  sharp  and  piercing  sentence 
concerning  the  perishing  of  the  soul,  notwithstanding 
gifts  and  papts  ;  as  for  instance,  these  words  have  been 
of  great  use  to  me :  "  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues 
of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become 
as  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal."     1  Cor.  13: 1, 


OR  (ill  ACE  ABOUNDING.  115 

2.  A  tinkling  cymbal  is  an  instrument  of  music  with 
which  a  skilful  player  can  make  such  melodious  and 
heart-inflaming-  music,  that  all  who  hear  him  play  can 
scarcely  hold  from  dancing- ;  and  yet,  behold,  the  cymbal 
hath  not  life,  neither  comes  the  music  from  it,  but  be- 
cause of  the  art  of  him  that  plays  therewith  :  so  then  the 
instrument  at  last  may  come  to  naught  and  perish,  though 
in  times  past  such  music  hath  been  made  upon  it.  Just 
thus  I  saw  it  was  and  will  bo  with  them  that  have  gifts 
but  want  saving  grace :  they  are  in  the  hand  of  Christ 
as  the  cymbal  in  the  hand  of  David ;  and  as  David  could 
with  the  cymbal  make  such  mirth  in  the  service  of  God 
as  to  elevate  the  hearts  of  the  worshippers,  so  Christ  can 
so  use  these  gifted  men  as  with  them  to  affect  the  souls 
of  his  people  in  the  church,  yet  when  he  hath  done  all, 
lay  them  by  as  lifeless  though  sounding  cymbals. 

This  consideration  therefore,  together  with  some 
others,  were  for  the  most  part  as  a  maul  on  the  head  of 
pride  and  desire  of  vainglory.  What,  thought  I,  shall  1 
be  proud  because  I  am  as  sounding  brass  ?  Is  it  so 
much  to  be  a  fiddle  ?  Hath  not  the  least  creature  that 
hath  life  more  of  God  in  it  than  these  ?  Besides,  I  knew 
it  was  love  that  should  never  die,  but  these  must  cease 
and  vanish  ;  so  I  concluded  a  little  grace,  a  little  love, 
a  little  of  the  true  fear  of  God,  is  better  than  all  gifts  ; 
yea,  and  I  am  fully  convinced  that  it  is  possible  for  souls 
that  can  scarce  give  a  man  an  answer  but  with  great 
confusion  as  to  method — I  say,  it  is  as  possible  for  them 
,to  have  a  thousand  times  more  grace,  and  so  to  be  more 
in  the  love  and  favor  of  the  Lord,  than  some  who  by  the 
virtue  of  the  gift  of  knowledge  can  deliver  themselves 
like  angels.  s» 

Thus,  therefore,  I  came  to  perceive  that  though  gifts 
in  themselves  were  good  to  the  thing  for  which  they  are 
designed,  to  wit,  the  edification  of  others,  yet  they  are 


116  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

empty  and  without  p:)wer  to  save  the  soul  of  him  that 
hath  them,  if  they  be  alone  ;  neither  are  they  as  so  any 
sign  of  a  man's  state  to  be  happy,  being  only  a  dispen- 
sation of  God  to  some,  of  whose  improvement  or  non- 
improvement  they  must,  when  a  little  more  time  is  over, 
give  an  account  to  Him  that  is  ready  to  judge  the  quick 
and  the  dead.  This  showed  me  too,  that  gifts  being 
alone  were  dangerous,  not  in  themselves,  but  because  of 
those  evils  that  attend  them  that  have  them,  to  wit, 
pride,  desire  of  vainglorj'^,  self-conceit,  etc.,  all  which 
were  easily  blown  up  at  the  applause  and  commendation 
of  every  unadvised  Christian,  to  the  endangering  of  a 
poor  creature  to  fall  into  the  condemnation  of  the  devil. 

1  saw,  therefore,  that  he  that  hath  gifts  had  need  to 
be  let  into  a  sight  of  the  nature  of  them,  to  wit,  that 
they  come  short  of  making  him  to  be  in  a  truly  saved 
condition,  lest  he  rest  in  them,  and  so  fall  short  of  the 
grace  of  God.  He  hath  cause  also  to  walk  humbly  with 
God  and  be  little  in  his  own  eyes,  and  to  remember  with- 
al that  his  gifts  are  not  his  own,  but  the  church's,  and 
that  by  them  he  is  made  a  servant  to  the  church  ;  and  he 
must  give  at  last  an  account  of  his  stewardship  unto  the 
Lord  Jesus  ;  and  to  give  a  good  account  will  be  a  bless- 
ed thing.  Let  all  men  therefore  prize  a  little  with  the 
fear  of  the  Lord  :  gifts  indeed  are  desirable,  but  yet 
great  grace  and  small  gifts  are  better  than  great  gifts 
and  no  grace.  It  doth  not  say  the  Lord  gives  gifts  and 
glory,  but  the  Lord  gives  grace  and  glory ;  and  blessed 
is  such  an  one  to  whom  the  Lord  gives  grace,  true  grace, 
for  that  is  a  certain  forerunner  of  glory. 

But  when  Satan  perceived  that  his  thus  tempting  and 
assaulting  me  would  not  answer  his  design,  to  wit,  to 
overthrow  the  ministry  and  make  it  ineffectual  as  to  the 
ends  thereof,  then  he  tried  another  way,  which  was  to 
stir  up  the  minds  of  the  ignorant  and  malicious  to  load 


OH   QRACE    A  BOUND  1X0.  117 

mv  with  sl;iii(lci-s  and  rr|in.;ulics.  \.i\v  tlKM-cfurc  T  may 
say  that  what  the  devil  could  (k-visc  and  liis  instruments 
invent  was  wliirhd  up  and  down  the  country  against  mo, 
thinking,  as  I  said,  that  by  that  means  they  should  make 
my  ministry  to  be  abandoned.  It  began  therefore  to  be 
rumored  up  and  down  among  the  people  tliat  I  was  a 
witch,  a  Jesuit,  a  highwayman,  and  the  like.  To  all 
wiiicli  I  shall  oidy  say,  God  knows  that  I  am  innocent. 
But  as  for  mine  accusers,  let  them  provide  themselves  to 
meet  me  before  the  tribunal  of  the  Son  of  God,  there  to 
answx^r  for  all  tliese  things,  with  all  tlie  rest  of  their  ini- 
quities, unless  God  shall  give  them  repentance  for  them, 
for  the  which  I  pray  with  all  my  heart. 

But  th^it  which  was  reported  with  the  boldest  confi- 
dence was,  that  I  was  addicted  to  gross  immoralities  and 
the  like.  Now  these  slanders,  with  the  others,  I  gU^ry 
in,  because  but  slanders,  foolish  or  knavish  lies  and  false- 
hoods cast  upon  me  by  the  devil  and  his  seed  ;  and  should 
I  not  be  dealt  with  thus  wickedly  by  the  world,  I  should 
want  one  sign  of  a  saint  and  a  child  of  God.  "  Blessed 
arc  ye,"  saith  the  Lord  Jesus,  "when  men  shall  revile 
you,  and  persecute  j^ou,  and  shall  say  all  manner  of  evil 
against  you  falsely,  for  my  sake.  Rejoice,  and  be  exceed- 
ing glad  ;  for  great  is  your  rclvard  in  heaven  :  for  so 
persecuted  they  the  prophets  which  were  before  you." 
Matt.  5:11,  12. 

These  things  therefore  upon  mine  own  account  trouble 
me  not ;  no,  though  they  were  twenty  times  more  than 
they  are.  I  have  a  good  conscience  ;  and  whereas  they 
speak  evil  of  me  as  an  evil-doer,  they  shall  be  ashamed 
that  falsely  accuse  my  good  conversation  in  Christ.  So 
then,  what  shall  I  say  to  those  who  have  thus  bespatter- 
ed me  ?  Shall  I  threaten  them  ;  shall  I  chide  them  ; 
shall  I  flatter  them  ;  shall  I  entreat  them  to  hold  their 
tongues  ?     No,  not  I.     Were  it  not  that  these  things 


118  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

make  tliem  wlio  arc  the  autliors  and  abettors  ripe  for 
.damnation,  I  would  say  unto  tliem,  Report  it,  because  it 
will  increase  my  glory.  Therefore  I  bind  these  lies  and 
slanders  to  me  as  an  ornament ;  it  belongs  to  my  Chris-  ■ 
tian  profession  to  be  vilified,  slandered,  reproached,  and 
reviled  ;  and  since  all  this  is  nothing  else,  as  my  God  and 
my  conscience  do  bear  me  witness,  I  rejoice  in  reproach- 
es for  Christ's  sake. 

I  also  call  upon  all  those  fools  and  knaves  that"  have 
thus  made  it  any  thing  of  their  business  to  affirm  any  of 
these  things  aforenamed  of  me,  namely,  that  I  have  been 
of  unchaste  life  or  the  like,  when  they  have  used. the 
utmost  of  their  endeavors  and  made  the  fullest  inquiry 
that  they  can,  to  prove  against  me  truly  that  there  is 
any  one  in  heaven,"  or  earth,  or  hell  that  can  say  I  have 
at  any  time,  in  any  place,  by  day  or  night,  so  much  as 
attempted  any  unbecoming  familiarity.  And  speak  I  thus 
to  beg  mine  enemies  into  a  good  esteem  of  me  ?  No,  not 
I ;  I  will  in  this  beg  belief  of  no  man :  believe  or  disbe- 
lieve me  in  this,  all  is  a  similar  case  to  me.  My  foes 
have  missed  their  mark  in  this  their  shooting  at  me.  I 
am  not  the  man.  I  wish  that  they  themselves  be  guilt- 
less. If  all  the  fornicators  and  adulterers  in  England 
were  hanged  up  by  the'neck  till  they  be  dead,  John  Bun- 
yan,  the  object  of  their  envy,  would  be  still  alive  and 
well.  I  know  not  whether  there  be  such  a  thing  as  a 
woman  breathing  under  the  cope  of  the  heaven  but  by 
their  apparel,  their  children,  or  by  common  fame,  except 
my  wife. 

And  in  this  I  admire  the  wisdom  of  God,  that  he  made 
me  in  this  respect  circumspect  from  my  first  conversion 
until  now.  They  know  and  can  also  bear  me  witness 
with  whom  I  have  been  most  intimately  concerned,  that 
it  is  a  rare  thing  to  see  me  to  behave  familiarly  towards 
females ;  the  common  salutation  I  abhoi* — it  is  odious  to 


UR  URACE  AROUXDINC.  Hi) 

Jiu-  in  whoiiisucvcr  I  sec  it.  Tiicir  company  alone  I  can- 
not approve,  for  1  think  these  tilings  are  not  so  becoming 
me.  When  I  have  seen  good  men  salute  those  women 
that  they  have  visited,  or  that  have  visited  them,  1  have 
at  times  made  my  objection  against  it ;  and  when  they 
have  answered  that  it  was  but  a  piece  of  civility,  I  have 
told  them  it  was  not  a  comely  sight :  some  indeed  have 
urged  the  "  holy  kiss  ;"  but  then  I  have  asked  why  they 
have  made  such  exceptions — why  they  did  salute  the 
most  handsome,  and  let  the  ill-favored  go.  Thus,  how 
laudable  soever  such  things  have  been  in  the  eyes  of 
others,  they  have  been  unseemly  in  my  sight. 

And  now  for  a  wind-up  in  this  matter.  I  call  not 
only  on  men  but  angels  to  prove  me  guilty  of  having 
broken  the  marriage-covenant ;  nor  am  I  afraid  to  do  it 
a  second  time,  knowing  that  I  cannot  ofllend  the  Lord  in 
Buch  a  case  to  call  God  for  a  record  upon  my  soid  that 
in  these  things  I  am  innocent.  Not  that  I  have  been 
thus  kept  because  of  any  goodness  in  me  more  than  any 
other,  but  God  has  been  merciful  to  me,  and  has  kept 
me  ;  to  whom  I  pray  that  he  will  keep  me  still,  not  only 
from  this,  but  every  evil  way  and  work,  and  preser\e 
me  to  his  heaveidy  kingdom.     Amen. 

Now,  as  Satan  labored  by  reproaches  and  slanders  to 
make  me  vile  among  my  countrymen,  that  if  possible 
my  preaching  might  be  made  of  none  effect,  so  there 
was  added  hereto  a  long  and  tedious  imprisonment,  that 
thereby  I  might  be  frightened  from  my  service  for 
Christ,,  and  the  world  terrified  and  made  afraid  to  hear 
me  preach,  of  which  I  shall  in  the  next  place  give  you  a 
brief  account. 


120  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 


CHAPTER  XT. 


Having  made  profession  of  the  glorious  gospel  of 
Christ  a  long  time,  and  preached  the  same  about  five 
years,  I  was  apprehended  at  a  meeting  of  good  people 
in  the  country,  among  whom,  had  they  let  me  alone,  I 
should  have  preached  that  day,  but  they  took  me  away 
from  among  them,  and  had  me  before  a  justice,  who, 
after  I  had  offered  security  for  my  appearing  the  next 
sessions,  yet  committed  me  because  my  sureties  would 
not  consent  to  be  bound  that  I  should  preach  no  more  to 
the  people. 

At  the  sessions  after,  I  was  indicted  for  an  upholder 
and  maintainor  of  unlawful  assemblies  and  conventicles, 
and  for  }iot  conforming  to  the  national  worship  of  the 
church  of  England ;  and  after  some  conference  there 
with  the  justices,  they,  taking  my  plain  dealing  with 
them  for  a  confession,  as  they  termed  it,  of  the  indict- 
ment, did  sentence  me  to  perpetual  banishment  because 
I  refused  to  conform.  So  being  delivered  up  to  the  jail- 
er's hand,  I  was  had  home  to  prison,  and  there  have  lain 
now  complete  for  twelve  years,  waiting  to  see  what  God 
would  suffer  those  men  to  do  with  me.  In  which  condi- 
tion I  have  continued  with  much  content,  through  grace, 
but  have  met  with  many  turnings  and  goings  upon  my 
heart,  both  from  the  Lord,  Satan,  and  my  own  corrup- 
tion ;  by  all  which — glory  be  to  Jesus  Christ — ^I  have 
also  received  among  many  things  much  conviction,  in- 
struction, and  understanding,  of  which  at  large  I  shall 
not  here  discourse,  only  give  you  a  hint  or  two — a  word 
that  may  stir  up  the  godly  to  bless  God  and  to  pray  for 
me,  and  also  to  take  encouragement,  should  the  case  be 
their  own,  not  to  fear  what  man  can  do  unto  them. 


UR  (;i!.\("I-:  ABUrXDINC.  1-il 

I  novel-  li:ul  in  all  my  lil'i'  so  <;'rcat  an  iiiU-t  into  tlic 
Wold  ot'lioil  as  now.  Tiioso  scriptures  tliat  1  saw  iiotli- 
in,u-  ill  liclorc,  were  made  in  this  place  and  state  to  shine 
upon  ine  ;  Jesus  Christ  also  was  never  more  real  and 
apparent  than  now  :  here  I  have  seen  and  felt  him  indeed. 
Oh  that  word,  "AVe  have  not  preached  unto  you  cuii- 
ning-ly  devised  fal)les  ;"  and  that,  "  God  raised  Christ  up 
from  the  dead,  and  g-ave  him  g'lory,  that  our  faith  and 
hope  might  be  in  God,"  were  blessed  words  inito  me  in 
this  imprisoned  condition.  2  Pot.  1:1G;  1  Pet.  1:21. 
These  three  or  four  scriptures  also  have  been  great 
refreshments  in  this  condition  to  me :  John  14 ':  1-4  ; 
16  :  33  ;  Col.  3  :  3,  4  ;  Heb.  12  :  22-24.  So  that  sometimes 
when  I  have  enjoyed  the  savor  of  them  I  have  been  able 
to  laugh  at  destruction,  and  to  fear  neither  the  horse  nor 
his  rider. 

I  have  had  sweet  sights  of  tlie  forgiveness  of  my 
sins  in  this  place,  and  of  my  being  with  Jesus  in  another 
world.  Oh  the  mount  Sion,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  the 
innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  God  the  Judge  of 
all,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  Jesus, 
have  been  sweet  unto  me  in  this  place.  I  have  seen  that 
here  which  I  am  persuaded  I  shall  never  while  in  this 
world  be  able  to  express  :  I  have  seen  a  truth  in  this 
scripture  :  "  Whom  having  not  seen,  ye  love  ;  in  whom, 
though  now  ye  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  ye  rejoice 
with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory."  1  Pet.  1:8.  I 
never  knew  what  it  Avas  for  God  to  stand  by  me  at  all 
times  and  at  every  oflfer  of  Satan  to  afflict  me,  as  I  have 
f)und  him  since  I  came  in  hither;  for  lo,  as  fears  have 
presented  themselves,  so  have  supports  and  encourage- 
ments ;  yea,  when  I  have  started,  even  as  it  were  at 
nothing  else  but  my  shadow,  yet  God,  as  being  very 
tender  of  me,  hath  nf>t  suffered  me  to  be  molested,  but 
would   with    one    seriptnre    or    another   strengthen    me 

P.I    Pro-  f) 


122  BUNYANS  LIFE, 

against  all ;  insomuch  that  I  have  often  said,  were  it 
lawful  I  could  pray  for  greater  trouble  for  the  greater 
comfort's  sake.     Eccl.  *I  :  14  ;  2  Cor.  1  : 5. 

Before  I  came  to  prison  1  saw  what  was  coming,  and 
had  especially  two  considerations  warm  upon  my  heart. 
The  first  was,  how  to  be  able  to  encounter  death,  should 
that  be  here  my  portion.  And  for  this  that  scripture, 
was  great  information  to  me,  narael}'-,  to  pray  to  God. 
to  be  "strengthened  with  all  might,  according  to  his 
glorious  power,  unto  all  patience  and  long-suffering  with 
joyfulness."  Col.  1:11.  I  could  seldom  go  to  prayer 
before  I  was  imprisoned,  for  a  year  together,  but  this 
sentence  or  sweet  petition  would,  as  it  were,  thrust  itself 
into  my  mind,  and  persuade  me  that  if  ever  I  would  go 
through  long-suffering,  I  must  have  patience,  especially 
if  I  would  endure  it  joyfully. 

As  to  the  second  consideration,  that  saying  was  of 
great  use  to  me :  "  But  we  had  the  sentence  of  death  in 
ourselves,  that  we  should  not  trust  in  ourselves,  but  in 
God  that  raiseth  the  dead."  2  Cor.  1  :  9.  By  this  scrip- 
ture I  was  made  to  see  that  if  ever  I  would  suffer  riglU- 
ly,  I  must  first  pass  a  sentence  of  death  upon  every  thing 
that  can  be  properly  called  a  thing  of  this  life,  even  to 
reckon  myself,  my  wife,  my  children,  my  health,  my  en- 
joyment, and  all,  as  dead  to  me,  and  myself  as  dead  to 
them.  The  second  was,  to  live  upon  God  that  is  invisi- 
ble, as  Paul  said  in  another  place  ;  the  way  not  to  faint 
is,  to  "  look  not  at  the  things  Avhich  are  seen,  but  at  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things  which  are  seen 
are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eter- 
nal." And  thus  I  reasoned  with  myself:  If  I  provide  only 
for  a  prison,  then  the  whip  comes  at  unawares,  and  so 
doth  also  the  pillory.  Again,  if  I  only  provide  for  these, 
then  I  am  not  fit  for  banishment ;  further,  if  I  conclude 
that  banishment  is  the  worst,  then  if  death  comos  I  am 


OR  GRACE  ABOUNDING.  1'26 

surprised  ;  so  that  I  sec  the  best  way  to  go  through  suf- 
ferings is  to  trust  in  God  through  Christ,  as  toucliing  the 
world  to  come  ;  and  as  touching  tliis  world,  to  c(junt  tlic 
grave  my  house,  to  make  my  bed  in  darkness — to  say  to 
corruption,  thou  art  my  father,  and  to  the  worm,  thou 
art  my  mother  and  sister  :  that  is  to  familiarize  these 
things  to  me. 

But  notwithstanding  these  helps,  I  found  myself  a 
man  encompassed  with  infirmities  ;  the  parting  with  my 
wife  and  poor  children  hath  often  been  to  me  in  this 
place  as  pulling  the  flesh  from  the  bones,  and  that  not 
only  because  lam  somewhat  too  fond  of  these  great  mer- 
cies, but  also  because  I  would  have  often  brought  to  my 
mind  the  many  hardships,  miseries,  and  wants  that  my 
poor  family  were  like  to  meet  with  should  I  be  taken 
from  them,  especially  my  poor  blind  cliild,  who  lay  near- 
er to  my  heart  than  all  besides.  Oh,  the  thoughts  of  the 
hardship  my  poor  blind  one  might  undergo  Avuuld  break 
my  heart  to  pieces.  Poor  child,  thought  I,  wliat  sorrow 
art  thou  like  to  have  for  thy  portion  in  this  world  ! 
Thou  must  bo  beaten,  must  beg,  suffer  hunger,  cold, 
nakedness,  and  a  thousand  calamities,  though  I  cannot 
now  endure  the  wind  should  blow  upon  thee.  But  yet, 
recalling  myself,  thought  I,  I  must  venture  you  all  with 
God,  though  it  goeth  to  the  quick  to  leave  you.  Oh,  I 
saw  in  this  condition  I  Avas  as  a  man  M-ho  was  pulling 
down  his  house  upon  the  head  of  his  wife  and  children  ; 
yet,  thought  I,  I  must  do  it,  I  must  do  it.  And  now  I 
thought  on  those  two  milch  kine  that  were  to  carry  the 
ark  of  God  into  another  country,  and  to  leave  their  calves 
behind  them.     1  Sam.  6:10. 

But  that  which  helped  me  in  this  temptation  was 
divers  considerations,  of  which  three  in  special  here  I 
will  name  :  the  first  was  the  consideration  of  these  two 
scriptures:  "Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I  will  pre- 


rJ4  BrNYAX\S  LIFE, 

serve  them  alive  ;  and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me  ;"  and 
again,  "The  Lord  said,  Verily  it  shall  be  well  with  thy 
roninant;  verily  I  will  cause  the  enemy  to  entreat  thee 
well  in  the  time  of  evil,  and  in  the  time  of  affliction.'' 
J.T.  49:11  ;   15:11. 

I  had  also  this  consideration,  that  if  I  should  venture 
all  for  God,  I  eng-aged  God  to  take  care  of  my  concerns  ; 
but  if  I  forsook  him  in  his  ways,  for  fear  of  any  trouble 
that  should  come  to  me  or  mine,  then  I  should  not  only 
I'alsity  my  profession,  but  should  count  also  that  my  con- 
cerns were  not  so  sure  if  left  at  God's  feet  while  I  stood 
to  and  for  his  name,  as  they  would  be  if  they  were  under 
my  own  care,  thoug-h  with  the  denial  of  the  way  of  God. 
This  was  a  smarting  consideration,  and  as  spurs  into  my 
llesh.  That  scripture  also  greatly  helped  it  to  fasten  the 
more  on  me,  where  Christ  prays  against  Judas,  that  God 
would  disappoint  him  in  his  selfish  thoughts  which  mov- 
ed him  to  sell  his  Master.  Pray  read  it  soberly  :  Psalm 
109:6,  etc. 

I  had  also  another  consideration,  and  that  was,  the 
dread  of  the  torments  of  hell,  which  I  was  sure  they 
must  partake  of  that  for  fear  of  the  cross  do  shrink  from 
their  profession  of  Christ,  his  words  and  laws,  before  the 
s(jns  of  men.  I  thought  also  of  the  glory  that  he  had 
prepared  for  those  that  in  faith  and  love  and  patience 
stood  to  his  ways  before  them.  These  things,  I  say,  have 
helped  me  when  the  thoughts  of  the  misery  that  both 
myself  and  mine  might,  for  the  sake  of  my  profession, 
be  exposed  to,  have  lain  pinching  on  my  mind. 

When  I  have  indeed  conceited  that  I  might  be  ban- 
ished for  my  profession,  then  I  have  thought  of  that 
scripture  :  "They  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asunder, 
were  tempted,  were  slain  with  the  sword ;  they  wander- 
ed about  in  sheepskins  and  goatskins,  being  destitute, 
afflicted,  tormented,  of  whom  the  world  was  not  wor- 


OI!    (iltACK    A  Ilor.MilNC..  ll^.") 

thy,"  lleb.  11  :  37,  fur  all  thoy  llion;^lit  tlioy  were  too  bad 
to  dwell  and  abide  among  tlieni.  I  have  also  thouglit  of 
that  saying,  "The  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in  every  city 
that  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  me."  I  have  verily 
thought  that  my  soul  and  it  liav<'  sometimes  reasoned 
about  the  sore  and  sad  estate  of  a  banished  and  exiled 
condition— how  the}' were  exposed  to  hiniger,  to  cold,  1o 
perils,  to  nakedness,  to  enemies,  and  a  thousand  calam- 
ities ;  and  at  last,  it  may  be,  to  die  in  a  ditch,  like  a  pour 
and  desolate  sheep.  But  1  thank  God,  hitherto  I  have 
not  been  moved  by  these  most  delicate  reasonings,  but 
have  rather  by  tliem  more  approved  my  heart  to  (mh\. 

1  was  once,  above  all  the  rest,  in  a  very  sail  and  low 
condition  for  many  M'eeks  ;  at  which  tinie  also,  being  but 
a  young  prisimer  and  not  acquainted  with  the  laws,  I 
had  this  lying  upon  my  spirits,  that  my  imprisomnenl 
might  end  at  the  gallows,  for  aught  that  1  could  tell. 
Now,  therefore,  Satan  laid  hard  at  me  to  beat  me  out  of 
lieart  by  suggesting  thus  unto  me:  "But  how  if,  when 
you  come  indeed  to  die,  you  should  be  in  this  condition  ; 
that  is,  as  not  to  savor  the  things  of  God,  nor  to  have 
an  evidence  upon  your  soul  for  a;  better  state  hereafter  T 
For  indeed  at  this  time  all  the  things  of  God  were  hid 
from  my  soul.  Wherefore,  when  I  at  first  began  to  think 
of  this,  it  was  a  great  trouble  to  me,  for  I  thought  with 
myself  that  in  the  condition  I  now  was  in  I  was  not  fit 
to  die  ;  neither  did  I  think  I  could  if  I  should  be  called 
to  it;  besides,  1  thought  with  myself,  if  1  should  make  a 
scrambling  shift  to  clamber  up  the  ladder,  yet  I  should, 
cither  with  quaking  or  other  symptoms  of  fainting,  give 
occasion  to  the  enemy  to  reproach  the  way  of  God  and 
his  people  for  their  timorousness. 

This  therefore  lay  with  great  trouble  u])oii  me,  for 
methought  I  was  ashamed  to  die  with  a  pale  face  and 
tottering  knees   in  such   a-  ease  as  this.      Wher(>foro   T 


126  •      BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 

prayed  to  God  that  he  would  comfort  me,  and  give  mc 
strength  to  do  and  suffer  wliat  he  should  call  me  to  ;  yet 
no  comfort  appeared,  but  all  continued  hid.  I  was  also 
at  this  time  so  really  possessed  with  the  thought  of 
death,  that  oft  I  was  as  if  I  was  on  the  ladder  with  a 
jrope  about  my  neck  ;  only  this  was  some  encouragement 
to  me  :  I  thought  I  might  now  have  an  opportunity  to 
speak  my  last  words  unto  a  multitude  which  I  thought 
would  come  to  see  me  die  ;  and,  thought  I,  if  it  must  be 
so,  if  God  will  but  convert  one  soul  by  my  last  words,  I 
shall  not  count  my  life  thrown  away  nor  lost.  But  yet 
all  the  things  of  God  were  kept  out  of  my  sight,  and 
still  the  tempter  followed  me  with,  "But  whither  must 
you  go  when  j^ou  die  ;  what  will  become  of  you  ;  where 
will  you  be  found  in  another  world  ;  what  evidence  have 
you  for  heaven  and  glory  and  an  inheritance  among  them 
that  are  sanctified  ?"  Thus  I  was  tossed  for  many  weeks, 
and  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  at  last  this  consideration  feli 
with  weight  upon  me,  That  it  was  for  the  word  and  way 
of  God  that  I  was  in  this  condition ;  wherefore  I  was? 
engaged  not  to  flinch  a  hair's  breadth  from  it. 

I  thought  also  that  God  might  choose  whether  he 
would  give  me  comfort  now,  or  at  the  hour  of  death  ;  but 
I  might  not  therefore  choose  Avhethcr  I  would  hold  my 
profession  or  no.  I  was  bound,  but  he  was  free ;  yea,  it 
was  my  duty  to  stand  to  his  word,  Avhether  he  would 
ever  look  upon  me  or  save  me  at  the  last :  wherefore, 
thought  I,  save  the  point  being  thus,  I  am  for  going  on 
and  venturing  my  eternal  state  with  Christ,  whether  I 
Jiave  comfort  hei'e  or  no.  If  God  doth  not  come  in, 
thought  I,  I  will  leap  off  the  ladder  even  blindfold  into 
eternity,  sink  or  swim,  come  heaven,  come  hell.  Lord 
Jesus,  if  thou  wilt  catch  me,  do;  if  not,  I  will  venture 
all  for  thy  name. 

I  was  no  sooner  fixed  in  this  resolution,  but  this  word 


OR   GRACE  ADOL'XDIXc;.  127 

dropped  upon  mo-:  "Dotli  Job  serve  God  for  nauf;-lit?" 
As  if  the  accuser  had  said,  Lord,  Job  is  no  upright  man  : 
lie  serves  thee  for  by-respects  :  "  Hast  thou  not  made  a 
hedge  about  him,"  etc.  "But  put  forth  now  thy  iiand, 
and  touch  all  tliat  he  hath,  and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy 
face."  How  now,  thought  I ;  is  this  the  sign  of  an  uj)- 
right  soul,  to  desire  to  serve  God  wlien  all  is  taken  from 
him  ?  Is  he  a  godly  man  that  will  serve  God  for  noth- 
ing, rather  than  give  out?  Blessed  be  God,  then  I  hope 
I  have  an  upright  heart,  for  I  am  resolved,  God  giving 
me  strength,  never  to  deny  my  profession,  though  I  have 
nothing  at  all  for  my  pains ;  and  as  I  was  thus  consider- 
ing, that  scripture  was  set  before  me,  Psalm  44  :  12,  etc. 
Now  was  my  heart  full  of  comfort,  for  I  hoped  it  was 
sincere  ;  I  would  not  have  been  without  this  trial  for 
much  :  I  am  comforted  every  time  I  think  of  it,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  bless  God  for  ever  for  the  teachings  I  have 
had  by  it.  Many  more  of  the  dealings  of  God  towards 
me  I  might  relate ;  but  these,  out  of  the  spoils  won  in 
battle,  have  I  dedicated  to  maintain  the  house  of  the 
Lord.     1  Chron.  26 :  27. 


128  BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 


THE   CONCLUSION. 

1.  Of  all  the  temptations  that  evei"  I  met  with  in  my 
life,  to  question  the  being-  of  God  and  the  truth  of  his 
gospel  is  the  worst,  and  the  worst  to  be  borne.  When 
this  temptation  comes,  it  takes  arway  my  girdle  from  me, 
and  removes  the  foundation  from  imder  me.  Oh,  I  have 
often  thought  of  that  word,  "Having  your  loins  girt 
about  with  truth  ;"  and  of  that,  "  When  the  foundations 
are  destroyed,  what  can  the  righteous  do  ?" 

2.  Sometimes  when,  after  sin  committed,  I  have  look- 
ed for  sore  chastisement  from  the  hand  of  God,  the  very 
next  that  I  have  had  from  him  hath  been  the  discovery  of 
liis  grace.  Sometimes,  when  I  have  been  comforted,  I 
have  called  myself  a  fool  for  my  so  sinking  under  trou- 
ble. And  then,  again,  when  I  have  been  cast  down,  I 
thought  I  was  not  wise  to  give  such  way  to  comfort, 
with  such  strength  and  weight  have  both  these  been 
upon  me. 

3.  I  have  wondered  much  at  this  one  thing,  that 
though  God  doth  visit  my  soul  with  never  so  blessed  a 
discovery  of  himself,  yet  I  have  found,  again,  that  such 
hours  have  attended  me  afterwards,  that  I  have  been  in 
my  spirit  so  filled  with  darkness  that  I  could  not  so 
much  as  once  conceive  what  that  God  and  that  comfort 
was  with  which  I  have  been  refreshed. 

4.  I  have  sometimes  seen  more  in  a  line  of  the  Bible- 
than  1  could  well  tell  how  to  stand  under  ;  and  yet  at 
another  time  the  whole  Bible  hath  been  to  me  as  a  dry 
stick,  or  rather,  my  heart  hath  been  so  dead  and  dry  unfo 
it  that  I  could  not  conceive  the  least  dram  of  refresh- 
ment,  though  I  have  looked  it  all  over. 

5.  Of  all  fears,  they  are  the  best  that  are  made  by 


on   CllACE    ABOIMUNC.  \'2U 

the  blood  of  Christ;  and  of  all  j(jy,  that  is  the  .swcotcst 
that  is  mixed  with  niouniin^  over  ('hiisl.  Oli,  it  is  ;i 
g-oodly  thiii}^  to  he  on  our  knees,  with  Clirist  in  our  arms, 
before  God.     I  liope  I  know  somothini^  of  these  thinj;-s. 

().  I  lind  to  this  day  seven  abominations  in  my  heart : 
1.  Inelining  to  unbelief.  2.  Suddenly  to  forget  the  iov(> 
and  mercy  that  Christ  manifesteth.  3.  A  leaning  to  the 
works  of  the  law.  4.  Wandering's  and  coldness  in  pray- 
er. 5.  To  forget  to  watch  for  what  I  pray  for.  0.  Ai)t 
to  murmur  because  I  have  no  more,  and  j'et  ready  to 
abuse  what  I  have.  7.  I  can  do  none  of  those  things 
which  God  commands  me,  but  my  corruptions  w'\\l  thrust  < 
in  themselves.  "When  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present 
with  me." 

7.  These  things  I  continually  see  and  feel,  and  am 
afflicted  and  oppressed  with,  yet  the  wisdom  of  Goil  dotli 
order  them  for  my  good  :  1.  They  make  me  abhor  my- 
self. 2.  They  keep  me  from  trusting  my  heart.  3.  Tliey 
convince  me  of  the  insufficiency  of  all  inherent  righteous- 
ness. 4.  They  show  me  the  necessity  of  flying  to  Jesus. 
5.  They  press  me  to  pray  unto  God.  0.  The}-  show  me 
the  need  I  have  to  watch  and  be  sober  ;  and,  7.  Provoke 
mc  to  pray  unto  God,  through  Christ,  to  help  me  and  ^ 
carry  me  through  the  world. 


The  Ri'v.  Robert  Philip,  author  of  Buiiyan's  Life  and 
Times,  adds  the  following:  Bunyan's  lilx-ration  from 
prison  was  obtained  from  Charles  II.  by  Whitehead  the 
Quaker.  On  his  release  he  so  in  became  one  of  the  most 
popular  preachers  of  the  day,  and  was,  if  not  the  chap- 
Iain,  "the  teacher"  of  Sir  John  Shorter,  the  Mayor  uf 
London.     Southey's  Life. 

But  although  free  and  popular,  Bunyan  evidently 
dreaded  every  new  crisis  in  public  affairs.  lie  1\ad  rea- 
6* 


130  BUNYANS  LIFE, 

son  to  do  so.  Vcnner's  conspiracy  had  increased  tho 
severity  of  his  first  six  years'  imprisonment.  On  the 
occasion  of  the  fire  in  London,  he  was  thrown  into  prison 
ag-ain.  And  soon  after  James  II.  came  to  the  throne  in 
1)85,  Banyan  conveyed  the  whole  of  his  property  to  his 
wife  by  a  singular  deed,  which  can  only  be  accounted 
for  by  his  suspicions  of  James  and  Jeffries,  and  by  his 
horror  at  tho  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantz.  The  asy- 
lum which  the  refugees  found  in  England  did  not  prove 
to  him  that  he  was  safe.  No  wonder ;  "  Kirke  and  his 
lambs"  were  abroad,  and  the  Bedford  justices  still  in 
power.  It  was  mider  these  circumstances  that  he  divest- 
ed himself  of  all  his  property,  in  order  to  save  his  family 
from  want  should  he  again  be  made  a  victim.  The  deed 
shows  his  solicitude  for  Mrs.  Bunyan's  comfort  and  his 
confidence  in  her  prudence.  And  his  Elizabeth  well  de- 
served both. 

Whatever  Bunyan  may  have  feared  when  he  thus  dis' 
posed  of  all  the  little  property  he  had,  nothing  befell  him 
under  James  II.  He  published  "The  Pharisee  and  Pub- 
lican" in  1685,  the  year  of  the  king's  accession;  and  ii> 
1688,  Charles  Doe  says  "he  published  six  books,  being 
the  time  of  King  James  II.'s  Liberty  of  Conscience.'- 
This  appears  from  Doe's  list.  It  throws  also  much  light 
upon  Bunj^an's  death.  Such  labor  could  not  fail  to  sap 
his  strength,  even  if  he  did  nothing  but  carry  the  six 
books  through  the  press,  for  none  of  them  are  small 
except  the  last.  "He  was  seized  with  a  sweating  distem- 
per," says  Doe,  "after  he  published  six  books,  whicli, 
after  some  weeks,  pi'oved  his  death."  The  Sketch  in  the 
British  Museum  states  that,  "taking  a  tedious  journey 
in  a  slabby  rainy  day,  and  returning  late  to  London,  he 
was  entertained  by  one  Mr.  Strudwick,  a  grocer  on  Snow 
hill,  with  all  the  kind  endearments  of  a  loving  friend, 
but  sooTi  found  himself  indisposed  with  a  kind  of  shak- 


OR   r.  RACE  ABOUNDING.  i:3l 

ing,  as  it  were  an  ague,  which  increasing  to  a  fever,  ho 
took  to  liis  bed,  where,  growing  worse,  he  found  he  had 
not  long  to  last  in  this  world,  and  therefore  prepared  him- 
self for  another,  towards  which  he  had  been  journeying  us 
I  |)ilgriin  and  stranger  upon  earth  the  prime  of  his  days." 

The  occasioix  of  his  journey  to  Reading,  which  has 
always  been  called  "a  labor  of  love  and  charity,"  will 
now  be  more  interesting  than  it  hitherto  has  been.  It 
was  not  undertaken  by  a  man  in  health,  but  by  an  over- 
wrought author  sinking  under  "a  sweating  distemper." 
Mr.  Ivimey's  account  of  Bunyan's  errand  being  the  best, 
I  quote  it : 

"The  last  act  of  his  life  was  a  labor  of  love  and  char- 
ity. A  young  gentleman,  a  neighbor  of  Mr.  Bunyan, 
falling  under  his  father's  displeastire,  and  being  much 
troubled  in  mind  on  that  account,  and  also  from  hearing 
it  was  his  father's  design  to  disinherit  him,  or  otherwise 
deprive  him  of  what  he  had  to  leave,  he  pitched  upon 
Mr.  Bunyan  as  a  fit  man  to  make  Avay  for  his  submission, 
and  prepare  his  mind  to  receive  him  ;  which  he,  being 
willing  to  undertake  any  good  office,  readily  engaged  in, 
and  went  to  Reading,  in  Bedf(5rdshire,  for  that  purpose. 
There  he  so  successfully  accomplished  his  design,  by 
using  such  pressing  arguments  and  reason  against  an- 
ger and  passion,  and  also  for  love  and  reconciliation, 
that  the  father's  heart  was  softencil,  and  his  bowe!s 
yearned  over  his  son. 

"  After  Mr.  Bunyan  had  disposed  every  thing  in  the 
best  manner  to  promote  an  accommodation,  as  he  retuin- 
ed  to  London  on  horseback,  he  was  overtaken  with  e.v 
cessive  rains,  and  coming  to  his  lodgings  extremely  we*, 
he  fell  sick  of  a  violent  fever,  which  he  bore  with  mticii 
constancy  and  patience,  and  expressed  himself  as  if  he 
wished  nothing  more  than  to  depart  and  to  be  with 
Christ,  considering  it  as  gain,  and  life  oidy  a  tedious 


132 


BUNYAN'S  LIFE, 


delay  of  expected  felicity.  Finding  his  strength  decay, 
he  settled  his  worldly  affairs  as  well  as  the  shortness  of 
the  time  and  the  violence  of  the  disorder  would  permit ; 
and  after  an  illness  of  ten  days,  with  unshaken  confi- 
dence he  resigned  his  soul,  on  the  31st  of  August,  1688, 
being  sixty  years  of  age,  into  the  hand  of  his  most  mer- 
ciful Redeemer,  following  his  Pilgrim  from  the  city  of 
Destruction  to  the  New  Jerusalem,  his  better  part  having 
been  all  along  there  in  holy  contemplation,  pantings,  and 
breathings  after  the  hidden  manna  and  the  water  of  life." 
His  tomb  is  in  Bunhill  Fields.  His  cottage  at  El- 
stow,  although  somewhat  modernized,  is  substantially 
as  he  left  it.  His  chair,  jug,  Book  of  Martyrs,  Church 
Book,  and  some  other  relics,  are  carefully  preserved  at 
his  chapel  in  Bedford  ;  and  best  of  all,  his  catholic  spirit 
also  is  preserved  there. 


K  wv^~?^''wwf'^'i»*(iww;  »jMnlfw5»?«?B^^^ 


THE 

AUTHOR'S  ArOLUGY 

FOK 

HJS  BOOK. 


"When'  at  the  first  I  took  my  pon  in  liaiid 
Tims  Ibr  to  write,  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  book 
In  such  a  mode  :  nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another,  which,  when  ahnost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware,  1  this  begun. 

And  thus  it  was  :  I,  writing  of  the  way 
AthJ  race  of  saints,  iji  tliis  our  gospel-day, 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey  and  the  way  to  glory, 
In  more  than  twenty  things  which  I  set  down. 
This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  rr^'  crown  ; 
And  they  again  began  to  multiply. 
Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly. 
Nay  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast, 
I  '11  put  you  by  yourselves,  lest  you  at  last 
Should  prove  ad  infinitum,'^  and  eat  out 
The  book  that  I  already  am  about. 
AVell,  so  I  did  ;  but  yet  I  did  not  think 
To  show  to  all  the  world  my  pen  and  ink 
In  such  a  mode ;  I  only  thought  to  make 
I  knew  not  what:  nor  did  I  undertake 
Thereby  to  please  my  neighbor ;  no,  not  1 ; 
I  fliVl  it  mv  rnvK  self  to  gratify. 

o  Willioutend. 


134       THE  AUTHORS  APOLOGY. 

Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend 
In  this  my  scribble  ;  nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this 
From  worser  thoughts,  which  make  me  do  amiss. 
J'hus  I  set  pen  to  paper  with  delight, 
And  quickly  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white : 
For  having  now  my  method  by  the  end. 
Still  as  I  pulled  it  came,  and  so  I  penned 
It  down,  until  it  came  at  last  to  be. 
For  length  and  breadth,  the  bigness  which  you  see. 

Well,  when  I  had  thus  put  mine  ends  together, 
I  showed  them  others,  that  I  might  see  whether 
They  would  condemn  them,  or  them  justify  ; 
And  some  said.  Let  them  live  ;  some,  Let  them  die : 
Some  said,  John,  print  it ;  others  said.  Not  so  : 
Some  said,  It  might  do  good  ;  others  said,  No. 

Now  was  I  in  a  strait,  and  did  not  see 
Which  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  by  me : 
At  last  I  thought.  Since  ye  are  thus  divided, 
I  print  it  will ;  and  so  the  case  decided. 

For,  thought  I,  some  I  see  would  have  it  done, 
Though  others  in  thai  channel  do  not  run  : 
To  prove,  then,  who  advised  for  the  best. 
Thus  I  thought  fit  to  put  it  to  the  test. 

I  further  thought,  if  now  I  did  deny 
Those  that  would  have  it,  thus  to  gratify, 
I  did  not  know  but  hinder  them  I  might 
Of  that  which  would  to  them  be  great  delight. 
'For  those  which  were  not  for  its  coming  forth, 
I  said  to  them,  Oifend  3'^ou  I  am  loath  ; 
Yet  since  your  brethren  pleased  with  it  be. 
Forbear  to  judge  till  you  do  further  see. 

If  that  thou  wilt  not  read,  let  it  alone  ; 
Some  love  the  meat,  some  love  to  pick  the  bone. 


Till-:   AL'TllOR'S  ArOLO(JY.  1 

Yea,  that  I  might  thorn  better  palliate, 
1  did  too  with  thcin  thus  expostulate  : 

May  I  not  write  in  such  a  style  as  this  ; 
In  such  a  method  too,  and  yet  not  miss 
I^Iy  end,  thy  good  ?     Why  may  it  not  be  done  ? 
l)ark  clouds  bring  waters,  when  the  bright  bring  none 
Yea,  dark  or  bright,  if  they  their  silver  drops 
Cause  to  descend,  the  earth,  by  yielding  crops. 
Gives  praise  to  both,  and  carpeth  not  at  either. 
But  treasures  up  the  fruit  they  yield  together  ; 
Yea,  so  commixes  both,  that  in  their  fruit 
None  can  distinguish  this  from  that :  they  suit 
Her  well  when  hungry  ;  but  if  she  be  full, 
She  spews  out  both,  and  makes  their  blessing  null. 

You  see  the  ways  the  fisherman  d(jth  take 
To  catch  the  fish — what  engines  doth  he  make  ! 
Behold  how  he  engageth  all  his  wits  ; 
Also  his  snares,  lines,  angles,  hooks,  and  nets  : 
Yet  fish  there  be  that  neither  hook  nor  line, 
Nor  snare,  nor  net,  nor  engine,  can  make  thine  ; 
They  must  be  groped  for,  and  be  tickled  too, 
Or  they  will  not  be  catched,  whate'er  you  do. 

How  does  the  fowler  seek  to  catch  his  game 
By  divers  means,  all  which  one  cannot  nam(>. 
His  guns,  his  nets,  his  lime-twigs,  light,  and  bell  ; 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands  ;  yea,  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures  ?  yet,  there 's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  fowls  he  please. 
Yea,  he  must  pipe  and  whistle  to  catch  this; 
Yet  if  he  does  so,  that  bird  he  will  miss. 
If  that  a  pearl  may  in  a  toad's  head  dwell, 
And  may  be  found  too  in  an  oyster-shell  ; 
If  things  that  promise  nothing  do  contain 
What  better  is  than  gold,  who  will  disdain, 


136       THE  AUTHORS  APOLOGY. 

That  have  an  iiiklhig-*  of  it^  there  to  look, 
That  they  may  find  it  ?     Now,  my  little  book, 
Though  void  of  all  these  paintings  tliat  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  man  to  take. 
Is  not  without  those  things  that  do  excel 
What  do  in  brave  but  empty  nations  dwell. 

"  Well,  yet  I  am  not  fully  satisfied 
That  this  your  book  will  stand,  when  soundly  tried." 

Why,  what 's  the  matter  ?    "  It  is  dark."   What  though  ? 
"But  it  is  feigned."     What  of  that?     I  trow 
Some  men  by  feigned  words,  as  dark  as  mine, 
Make  truth  to  spangle,  and  its  rays  to  shine. 
"But  they  want  solidness."     Speak,  man,  thy  mind. 
"They  drown  the  weak  ;  metaphors  make  us  blind." 

Solidity,  indeed,  becomes  the  pen 
Of  him  that  writeth  things  divine  to  men  ; 
But  must  I  needs  want  solidness,  because 
By  metaphors  I  speak  ?     Were  not  God's  laws. 
His  gospel  laws,  in  olden  time  held  forth 
By  types,  shadows,  and  metaphors  ?     Yet  loutli 
Will  any  sober  man  be  to  find  fault 
With- them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assault 
The  highest  wisdom.     No,  he  rather  stoops, 
And  seeks  to  find  out  what,  by  pins  and  loops, 
By  calves  and  sheep,  by  heifers  and  by  rams. 
By  birds  and  herbs,  and  by  the  blood  of  lambs, 
God  speaketh  to  him  ;  and  happy  is  he 
That  finds  the  light  and  grace  that  in  them  be. 

Be  not  too  forward,  therefore,  to  conclude 
That  I  want  solidness — that  I  am  rude  : 
All  things  solid  in  show,  not  solid  be  ; 
All  things  in  parable  despise  not  we, 

■~-  Hint,  whisper,  insinuation. 


TIIK  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY.  1: 

Lost  things  most  hurtful  lij^^htly  wc  receive, 
And  tilings  that  good  are,  of  our  souls  bereave. 
My  dark  and  cloudy  words  they  do  but  hold 
The  truth,  as  cabinets  enclose  the  gold. 

The  prophets  used  much  by  metaphor?* 
To  set  forth  truth  ;  yea,  whoso  considers 
Clirist,  his  apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see 
That  truths  to  this  day  in  such  mantles  be. 

Am  I  afraid  to  say  that  holy  writ, 
Which  for  its  style  and  phrase  puts  down  all  wit. 
Is  everywhere  so  full  of  all  these  things. 
Dark  figures,  allegories  ?     Yet  there  sjjrings 
From  that  same  book  that  lustre  and  those  rays 
Of  light  that  turn  our  darkest  nights  to  days. 

Come,  let  my  carper  to  his  life  now  look, 
And  find  there  darker  lines  than  in  my  book 
He  findeth  any  ;  yea,  and  let  him  know 
Tiiat  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too. 

May  we  but  stand  before  impartial  men, 
To  his  poor  one  I  durst  adventure  ten, 
Tiiat  they  will  take  my  meaning  in  these;  lines 
Far  IJetter  than  his  lies  in  silver  shrines. 
Come,  Truth,  although  in  swaddling-clothes,  I  find 
Informs  the  judgment,  recttfies  the  mind. 
Pleases  the  understanding,  makes  the  will 
Submit ;  the  memory  too  it  doth  fill 
With  what  doth  our  imagination  please ; 
Likewise  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease. 

Sound  words,  T  know,  Timothy  is  to  use, 
And  old  wives'  fables  he  is  to  refuse  ; 
Hut  yet  grave  Paul  him  nowhere  doth  for])i(l 
The  use  of  parables,  in  which  lay  hid 
Tiiat  gold,  those  pearls  and  precious  stones  that  were 
W(jrth  digging  for,  and  that  with  greatest  care. 


138  THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 

Let  mc  add  one  word  move.     0  man  of  God, 
Art  thou  offended  ?     Dost  tliou  wish  1  had 
Put  forth  my  matter  in  another  dress  ; 
Or  that  I  had  in  things  been  more  express  ? 
Thi-co  tilings  lel^  me  propound  ;  then  I  submit 
To  tliose  that  are  my  betters,  as  is  fit. 

L  I  find  not  that  I  am  denied  the  use 
Of  this  my  method,  so  I  no  abuse 
Put  on  the  words,  things,  readers,  or  be  rude 
In  handling  figure  or  similitude, 
Li  application  ;  but  all  that  I  may 
Seek  the  advance  of  truth  this  or  that  way. 
Denied,  did  I  say?     Nay,  I  have  leave — 
E.xample  too,  and  that  from  them  that  have 
God  better  pleased,  by  their  words  or  ways, 
Than  any  man  that  breatheth  nowadays — 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thee  that  excellentest  are. 

2.  I  find  that  men  as  high  as  trees  will  write 
Dialogue-wise  ;  yet  no  man  doth  them  slight 
For  writing  so.     Indeed,  if  they  abuse 
Truth,  cursed  be  they,  and  the  craft  they  use 
To  that  intent ;  but  yet  let  truth  be  free 

To  make  her  sallies  upon  thee  and  mc 

Which  way  it  pleases  God  ;  for  who  knows  how, 

Better  than  he  that  taught  us  first  to  plough, 

To  guide  our  minds  and  pons  for  his  design  ?        ^ 

And  he  makes  base  things  usher  in  divine. 

3.  I  find  that  holy  writ  in  many  places 

liath  semblance  with  this  method,  where  the  cases 
Do  call  for  one  thing  to  set  forth  another : 
Use  it  I  may  then,  and  yet  nothing  smother 
Truth's  golden  beams  ;  nay,  by  this  method  may 
Make  it  cast  forth  its  rays  as  light  as  day. 


Till-:  Al'TllOR'.'^  ArOLOCY.  139 

And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  pen, 
I'll  show  the  ju-ofit  of  my  book,  and  then 
Commit  b(jth  tlice  and  it  unto  that  hand 
That  pulls  the  strong  down,  and  makes  weak  ones  stand. 

This  book  it  chalkoth  out  before  thine  eyes 
The  man  that  seeks  the  everlasting  prize  : 
It  shows  you  whence  he  comes,  whither  he  goes, 
What  he  leaves  undone,  also  what  he  does  ; 
It  also  sliows  you  how  he  runs,  and  runs, 
Till  he  unto  the  gate  of  glory  comes. 
It  shows  too  who  set  out  for  life  amain, 
As  if  the  lasting  crown  they  would  obtain  ; 
Here  also  you  may  see  the  reason  why 
They  lose  their  labor,  and  like  fools  do  die. 

Tiiis  book  will  make  a  traveller  of  thee, 
If  by  its  counsel  thou  wilt  ruled  be ; 
It  will  direct  thee  to  the  Iloly  Land, 
If  thou  wilt  its  directions  understand  : 
Yea,  it  will  make  the  slothful  active  be  ; 
The  blind  also  delightful  things  to  see. 

Art  thou  for  something  rare  and  profitable  ; 
Or  would'st  thou  see  a  truth  within  a  fable  ? 
Art  thou  forgetfid  ?     Wouldest  thou  remember 
From -New-year's  day  to  the  last  of  December? 
Then  read  my  fancies  ;  they  will  stick  like  burs, 
And  may  be,  to  the  helpless,  comforters. 

ThiS  book  is  writ  in  such  a  dialect 
As  may  the  minds  of  listless  men  affect : 
It  seems  a  novelty,  and  yet  contains 
Nothing  but  sound  and  honest  gospel  strains. 

"Would'st  thou  divert  thyself  from  melancholy  ? 
"Would'st  thou  be  pleasant,  yet  be  far  from  folly? 
Would'st  thou  read  riddles,  and  their  explanation, 
Or  else  be  drowned  in  thy  contemplation? 


110 


THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 


Dost  than  love  picking-  meat ;  tir  would'st  thou  see 

A  man  i'  the  clouds,  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee  ? 

Would'st  thou  be  in  a  dream,  and  yet  not  sleep  ; 

Or  would'st  thou  in  a  moment  laugh  and  weep  ? 

Wouldcst  thou  lose  thj^self,  and  catch  no  harm, 

And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm  ? 

Would'st  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  know'st  not  what, 

And  yet  know  whether  thou  art  blest  or  not 

By  reading  the  same  lines  ?     Oh  then  come  hither, 

And  lay  my  book,  thy  head,  and  heart  together. 

JOHN  BUN Y AN. 


S: 


IN  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A   DREAM. 


THE  FIRST  STAGE. 


As  I  walked  through  the  wilderness  of  this 
world,  I  lighted  on  a  certain  place  where  was 
The  Jail,  a  den,'-'  and  laid  me  down  in  that  i)lace 
to  sleep  ;  and  as  I  slept,  I  dreamed  a  dream.  I 
dreamed,  and  behold,  I  saw  a  man  clothed  with 
rags  standing  in  a  certain  ])lace,  with  his  face 
from  his  own  house,  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  a 
great  burden  u[)<jn  his  back.  Isa.  04  :  G  ;  Luke 
14  :  33  ;  Psalm  38  :  4.  I  looked,  and  saw  him 
open  the  book,  and  read  therein  ;  and  as  he 
read,  he  wept  and  trembled ;  and  not  being  able 

*  Bedford  jail,  in  wliich  the  author  was  a  prisoner  for  con- 
science' sake. 


142  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

longer  to  contain,  lie  brake  out  ^yith  a  lament- 
able cr}^  saying,  "What  shall  I  do?''  Acts 
2:37;\6:30;  Habak.  1  :  2,  3. 

In  this  plight,  therefore,  he  went  home,  and 
restrained  himself  as  long  as  he  could,  that  his 
wife  and  children  should  not  perceive  his  dis- 
tress ;  but  he  could  not  be  silent  long,  because 
that  his  trouble  increased.  Wherefore  at  length 
he  brake  his  mind  to  his  wife  and  children  ;  and 
thus  he  began  to  talk  to  them  :  "  0,  my  dear 
wife,"  said  he,  "and  you  the  children  of  my 
bowels,  I,  3'our  dear  friend,  am  in  myself  un- 
done by  reason  of  a  burden  that  lieth  hard  upon 
me  ;  moreover,  I  am  certainly  informed  that 
this  our  city  will  be  burnt  with  fire  This  world. 
from  heaven  ;  in  which  fearful  overthrow,  both 
myself,  with  thee  my  wife,  and  you  my  sweet 
babes,  shall  miserably  come  to  ruin,    neknowsno 

way  of  Lscape 

except  (the  which  yet  I  see  not)  some  ""^y"-'^- 
way  (if  escape  can  be  found  whereby  we  may 
be  delivered."  At  this  his  relations  were  sore 
amazed  ;  not  for  that  they  believed  that  what 
he  had  said  to  them  was  true,  but  because  they 
thought  that  some  frenz}^  distemper  had  got 
into  his  head  ;  therefore,  it  drawing  towards 
night,  and  they  hoping  that  sleep  might  settle 
his  brains,  Avith  all  haste  they  got  him  to  bed. 


EVANGLLI::!   DIRECTS  HIM.  14:) 

I>ut  the  iiiulit  was  as  Iroublosoino  to  liini  as  the 
day  ;  Avhcrelure,  instead  of  sleei)iiifr,  lie  spent 
it  in  siglis  and  tears.  S(3  wlieu  the  morning  was 
eumc,  they  wonhl  know  how  he  did.  He  told 
them,  "  Worse  and  worse  :'"  he  also  set  to  talk- 
ing to  them  again  :  but  they  began  to  be  hard- 
,  ,  ,  encd.  Thev  also  thoudit  to  drive 
'"''"'''^""'  away  his  distemper  by  harsh  and 
surly  carriage  to  him  ;  sometimes  they  would 
deride,  sometimes  they  would  chide,  and  some- 
times they  Avould  quite  neglect  him.  AVhere- 
fore  he  began  to  retire  himself  to  his  chamber 
to  j)ray  for  and  jiity  them,  and  also  to  condole 
his  own  misery  ;  he  Avould  also  walk  solitarily 
in  the  fields,  sometimes  reading,  and  sometimes 
])raying :  and  thus  for  some  day-s  he  si)cnt  his 
time. 

Now  I  saw.  ii})on  a  time,  when  he  was  walk- 
ing in  the  fields,  that  he  was  (as  he  was  wont) 
reading  in  his  book,  and  greatly  distressed  in 
his  mind  ;  and  as  he  read,  he  burst  out,  as  he 
had  done  before,  crying,  "What  shall  I  do  to 
be  saved  ?"'     Acts  IG  :  30,  31. 

I  saw  also  that  he  looked  this  way.  and  llu.t 
way,  as  if  he  would  run  ;  yet  he  stood  still  be- 
cause (as  I  perceived)  he  could  not  tell  which 
wav  to  so.     I   looked   then,  and   saw  a  man 


144  PILGRIM'S  PllOGRESS. 

named  Evangelist  coming  to  liim,  and  he  ask- 
ed, "  Wherefore  dost  thou  cry?" 

He  answered,  "  Sir,  I  perceive,  b}'  the  book 
in  mj  hand,  that  I  am  condemned  to  die,  and 
after  that  to  come  to  judgment,  Heb.  9:27; 
and  I  lind  that  I  am  not  willing  to  do  the  first, 
Job  10:21,  22,  nor  able  to  do  the  second." 
Ezek.  22:14. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  "  Why  not  willing  to 
die,  since  this  life  is  attended  with  so  many 
evils?"  The  man  answered,  "Because  I  fear 
that  this 'burden  that  is  upon  my  back  will  sink 
me  lower  than  the  grave,  and  I  shall  fall  into 
Tophet.  Isa.  30  :  33.  And,  sir,  if  I  be  not  fit 
to  go  to  prison,  I  am  not  fit  to  go  to  judgment, 
and  from  thence  to  execution ;  and  the  thoughts 
of  these  things  make  me  cry." 

Then  said  Evangelist,  "If  this  be  thy 
condition,  why  standest  thou  still?'"    conviction  of 

tlie  necessity  of 

He  answered,  "Because  I  know  not  *i^^'"s 
whither  to  go."     Then  he  gave  him  a  parch- 
ment roll,  and  there  was  written  within,  "Fly 
from  the  wrath  to  come."     Matt.  3  : 7. 

The  man  therefore  read  it,  and,  looking  upon 
Evangelist  very  carefully,  said,  "Whither  must 
I  fly?"  Then  said  Evangelist,  (pointing  with 
his  finger  over  a  very  wide  field,)  "  Do  you  see 


OBSTINATE   AND    I'lJAlJl.E.  145 

yoiidci'  wickcl-oalc '.'"     Matt.  T:l;5,  11.      The 

man  said,    •"No."     Then  said  the  other,   "Do 

Christ  ami  the  vou  See  voiider  shiniiin-  liglit  ?"'     ]Va. 

u;:\'' K''";,un:i  no  aor)  •  2  ]*et.  1  :  19.     He  said,  "  I 

without        the  ' 

^^"'■"  think  I  do."     Then  .said  Evanoelist, 

'•  Kee})  that  liuht  in  your  eye,  and  go  np  directly 
thereto,  so  shalt  thou  ;^ee  the  gate  ;  at  ^vhicli 
Avhen  thou  knockest,  it  shall  be  told  thee  wliat 
thou  shalt  do."  So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the 
man  Ix'gan  to  run.  Xow  he  had  not  run  far 
from  his  own  door  when  his  wife  and  children, 
perceiving  it.  began  to  cry  after  him  to  return ; 
but  the  man  ])ut  his  lingers  in  his  ears  and  ran 
on,  crying,  "Life  I  life!  eternal  life!"'  Luke 
14:26.  So  he  looked  not  l)ehind  him,  Gen. 
19:17,  but  (led  towards  the  middle  of  the  plain. 
The  neighbors  also  came  out  to  see  him 
Theythatfiee  HUb  'Tcr.  20:10;  Rud  Rs  hc  rau,  some 
to  come  are  a  mockcd.  othcrs  threatened,  and  some 

pazmg  stock  to 

the  worui.  cried  after  him  to  return ;  and  among 
those  that  did  so,  there  were  two  that  resolved 
to  fetch  hiui  back  by  force.  The  nauie  of  the 
one  was  Obstinate,  and  the  name  of  the  other 
Pliable.  Xow  by  this  time  the  man  was  got  a 
good  distance  from  them  ;  but.  liowever,  they 
were  resolved  to  pursue  him,  which  they  did. 
and  in  a  little  time  they  overtook  him.  Then 
7 


140  riLGRlM'S  PROGRESS. 

said  the  man,  "  Xeiglibors,  wherefore  are  ye 
come?"'  They  said,  "To  persuade  you  to  go 
back  with  us."  But  he  said,  "  That  can  by  no 
means  be  :  you  dwell,"  said  he,  "  in  the  city  of 
Destruction,  the  place  also  where  I  was  born :  I 
see  it  to  be  so  ;  and  dying  there,  sooner  or  later^ 
you  will  sink  lower  than  the  grave,  into  a  place 
that  burns  with  fire  and  brimstone  :  be  content, 
good  neighbors,  and  go  along  Avith  me." 

"What,"  said  Obstinate,  "and  leave  our 
friends  and  our  comforts  behind  us !" 

"Yes,"  said  Christian,  (for  that  was  his 
name,)  "because  that  all  which  you  forsake  is 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  a  little  of  that 
I  am  seeking  to  enjoy,  2  Cor.  4:18;  and  if  you 
will  go  along  with  me,  and  hold  it,  you  shall  fare 
as  1  myself;  for  there,  where  I  go,  is  enough  and 
to  spare.  Luke  15  :  17.  Come  away,  and  prove 
my  words." 

Obst.  What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since 
you  leave  all  the  world  to  find  them  ? 

Chr.  I  seek  an  inheritance  incorruptible, 
undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away,  1  Peter, 
1:4;  and  it  is  laid  up  in  heaven,  and  safe  there, 
Heb.  11  :16,  to  be  bestowed,  at  the  time  ap- 
pointed, on  them  that  diligently  seek  it.  Read 
it  so,  if  vou  will,  in  mv  book. 


OBSTINATE   AND   PLIABLE.  1  iT 

''Tush,"  said  Obstiiiato,  "away  ^vitll  your 
book  ;  will  you  go  l)ac'k  with  us,  or  no?" 

"No,  not  I,"'  said  the  other,  "because  I  have 
hiid  my  hand  to  the  plough/'     Luke  9:G2. 

Orst.  Come  then.  neighl)or  Pliable,  let  us 
turn  again,  and  go  home  without  him :  there  is  a 
company  of  these  crazy-headed  coxcombs,  that 
when  they  take  a  fancy  by  the  end,  are  wiser 
in  their  own  eyes  than  seven  men  that  can  ren- 
der a  reason. 

Then  said  Pliable,  "  Don't  revile  ;  if  what 
good  Christian  says  is  true,  the  things  he  looks 
after  arc  better  than  ours:  my  heart  inclines  to 
go  with  my  neigh])or.'' 

Obst.  What,  more  fools  still !  Be  ruled  by 
me,  and  go  back  ;  who  knows  whither  such  a 
brain-sick  fellow  will  lead  you?  Go  back,  go 
back,  and  be  wise. 

Chr.  Nay,  but  do  thou  come  with  thy  neigh- 
oS[naie",u"n  ^^r  Plial)le ;  there  are  such  things  to 
soul.  "*  *"*  be  had  which  I  spoke  of,  and  many 
more  glories  besides.  If  you  believe  not  me, 
read  here  in  this  book  ;  and  for  the  truth  of 
wdiat  is  expressed  therein,  behold,  all  is  con- 
firmed by  the  blood  of  Him  that  made  it.  Heb. 
9:17-21. 

"  Well,  neighbor  Obstinate,"  said  Pliable, 


14S  riLGHnrp  pp^oorepp. 

"I  iK'ii'in  to  come  to  a  point ;  I  iuteiid  to  go  along 
with  this  good  man,  and  to  cast  in  my     rnabie  con 

senteth    to    go 

lot  with  him :  l)ut'  my  good  compan-  ^""'  •^'^'-istian. 
i  )n,  do  you  know  the  way  to  this  desired  place?'' 

Chr.  I  am  directed  by  a  man,  whose  name 
is  Evangelist,  to  speed  me  to  a  little  gate  that 
is  before  ns,  where  we  shall  receive  instructions 
about  the  way. 

Plt.  Gome  then,  good  neighbor,  let  us  be 
going.     Then  they  went  both  together. 

"And  I  will  go  back  to  my  place,'"'  said 
Obstinate:  "  I  will  be  no  companion  nSfngbacf' 
of  such  misled,  fantastical  fellows." 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  when  Obsti- 
nate was  gone  back.   Christian  and    xaikbetween 

Christian     and 

Pliable  went  talking  over  the  plain;  I'l'^we. 
and  thus  they  began  their  discourse. 

Chr.  Come,  neighbor  Pliable,  how  do  jon 
do  ?  I  am  glad  you  are  persuaded  to  go  along 
with  me.  Had  even  Obstinate  himself  but  felt 
what  I  have  felt  of  the  powers  and  terrors  of 
what  is  3'et  unseen,  he  would  not  thus  lightly 
have  given  us  the  back. 

Pli.  Come,  neighbor  Christian,  since  there 
are  none  but  us  two  here,  tell  me  now  farther, 
what  the  things  are,  and  how  to  be  enjoyed, 
whither  we  are  going. 


rilKlr^TlAN    AND    rLlAHlJ;.  U't 

t'liK.  1  can  Ix'tk'i-  cuiuhmvc  oI'  lliciii  willi 
unspeakable'^'  "iv  inintl,  tluui  sjioak  of  tlit'iu  witli  my 
tongue :  but  yet,  since  you  are -desirous  to  know, 
I  will  read  of  them  in  nty  book. 

Pli.   And  do  you  think  (hat  the  words  o": 
your  book  are  certainly  true  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  verily;  for  it  was  made  by  Him 
that  cannot  lie.     Tit.  1  :  2. 

Pli.  Well  said  ;  what  things  are  they  ? 

Chr.  There  is  an  endless  kingdom  to  l)e  in- 
habited, and  everlasting  life  to  be  given  us,  thai 
we  may  inhabit  that  kingdom  for  ever.  Isa. 
G5:17;  John  10:27-20. 

Pli.  AVell  said ;  and  what  else  ? 

Chr.  There  are  crowns  of  glory  to  be  given 
us  ;  and  garments  that  will  make  us  shine  like 
the  sun  in  the  firmament  of  heaven.  2  TiuL 
4:8;  Rev.  22:5;  Matt.  13:43. 

Pli.  This  is  very  pleasant ;  and  what  else? 

Chr.  There  shall  be  no  more  crying,  noi- 
sorrow  ;  for  he  that  is  owner  of  the  place  will 
wipe  all  tears  from  our  eyes.  Isa.  25  :  8 ;  Rev. 
7:16,  17:   21  :4. 

Pli.  And  wliat  comi)any  shall  we  liave 
there  ? 

Chr.  There  we  shall  be  with  seraphim  and 
cherul)im.   Tsa.  H  :  2  :  1  Thess.  4:16,  17;  Rev. 


150  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

5:11;  creatures  that  will  dazzle  your  eyes  to 
look  on  them.  There  also  you  shall  meet  with 
thousands  and  ten  thousands  that  have  gone  be- 
fore us  to  that  place  :  iTone  of  them  are  hurtful 
but  loving  and  holy  ;  every  one  Avalking  in  the 
sight  of  God,  and  standing  in  his  presence  with 
acceptance  for  ever.  In  a  word,  there  we  shall 
see  the  elders  with  their  golden  crowns,  Rev, 
4:4;  there  we  shall  see  the  holy  virgins  with 
their  golden  harps,  Rev.  14:1-5  ;  there  we  shall 
see  men  that  by  the  world  were  cut  in  pieces, 
burnt  in  flames,  eaten  of  beasts,  drowned  in  the 
seas,  for  the  love  they  bore  to  the  Lord  of  the 
place,  John  12  :25,  all  well,  and  clothed  with 
immortality  as  with  a  garment.     2  Cor.  5  :  2. 

Pli.  The  hearing  of  this  is  enough  to  rav- 
ish one's  heart.  But  are  these  things  to  be 
enjoyed?  How  shall  we  get  to  be  sharers 
thereof? 

Chr.  The  Lord,  the  governor  of  the  coun- 
try, hath  recorded  that  in  this  book,  Isa.  55  : 1, 
2  ;  John  6  :  37 ;  7 : 37  ;  Rev.  21 : 6  ;  22 : 17  ;  the 
substance  of  which  is,  If  we  be  truly  willing  to 
have  it,  he  will  bestow  it  upon  us  freely. 

Pli.  Well,  my  good  companion,  glad  am  I 
to  hear  of  these  things  :  come  on,  let  us  mend 
our  pace. 


TLIAIUJ-:   llKTl'IINS   IK^MK.  151 

C'ilK.  1  cniiiiot  ^o  so  last  as  1  would,  ])y 
reasoii  of  this  1)ui-(1imi  that  is  on  my  ]yM-k. 

Xow  T  saw  ill  my  dreani,  that  just  as  they 
hud  imkUmI  tliis  talk,  th(>y  di'cw  iii^uh  to  a  very 
iiiiry  slouuli  tliat  was  in  the  midst  of  the  plain: 
and  they  beinj;-  lieedless,  did  l)oth  fall  suddenly 
Des^o^nd"^"  °'  ^lU)  the  bog.  The  name  of  the  slougli 
was  Despond.  Here,  therefore,  they  wallowed 
for  a  time,  being  grievously  bedaubed  with  dirt ; 
and  Christian,  because  of  the  burden  that  was 
(>:i  his  baek,  began  to  sink  in  the  mire. 

Then  said  Plial)le,  ''Ah,  neighbor  Christian, 
where  are  you  now?" 

"Truly,"'  said  Christian,  "  I  do  not  know."' 

At  this  Pliable  l)egan  to  be  offended,  and 
angrily  saiil  to  his  fedow.  "Is  this  the  happi- 
ness yon  have  told  me  all  this  while  of?  If 
we  have  sueli  ill  speed  at  our  first  setting  out, 
what  may  we  expect  between  this  an<l  our 
journey's  end?  ^lay  I  get  out  again  with  my 
{o'b^S^i;]"""  life,  you  shall  jwssess  the  brave  coun- 
try alone  for  me."  And  with  that  he  gave  a 
desperate  struggle  or  two,  and  got  out  of  the 
mire  on  that  side  of  the  slough  which  was  next 
to  his  own  house  :  so  away  he  went,  and  Chris- 
tian saw  him  no  more. 

AVherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in 


152  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  Sloiigli  of  Despond  alone  :  but  still  he  en- 
deavored to  struggle  to  that  side  of  christian,  in 
the  slough  that  was  farthest  from  his  stiii'io'gct''i^r' 

tlier    from    his 

own  house,  and  next  to  the  wicket-  °^"»^""**^- 
gate  ;  the  which  he  did,  but  could  not  get  out 
because  of  the  burden  that  was  upon  his  back : 
but  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  a  man  came  to 
him,  whose  name  was  Help,  and  asked  him 
what  he  did  there. 

"  Sir,"  said  Christian,  "  I  was  bid  to  go  thic 
way  by  a  man  called  Evangelist,  who  directed 
me  also  to  yonder  gate,  that  I  might  escape  the 
wrath  to  come.  And  as  I  was  going  thither,  I 
fell  in  here." 

Help.  But  why  did  not  j^ou  look  The  promises. 
for  the  steps  ? 

Chr.  Fear  followed  me  so  hard  that  I  fled 
the  next  way,  and  fell  in. 

Then  said  Help,  "Give  me  thy  hand."  So 
he  gave  him  his  hand,  and  he  drew  „K«^p"««h5m 
him  out,  Psalm  40  :  2,  and  he  set  him  upon 
sound  ground,  and  bid  him  go  on  his  way. 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  plucked  him 
out,  and  said,  "Sir,  wherefore,  since  over  this 
place  is  the  way  from  the  city  of  Destruction 
to  yonder  gate,  is  it,  that  this  plat  is  not  mend- 
ed, that  poor  travellers  might  go  thither  with 


THE   SLOl'dll    OF    DKr^rONU.  1.'):; 

more  security?"'     And  lie  said  unto  nio,  "This 
What  makes  iiiirv  slou;j,li  is  sucii  u  })hice  as  cauuot 

the    f^lough   or  '  1      1       •      •        1  1  i.       1   -ii 

Despond.  |)e  uiciided :  it  is  the  deseeiit  whither 
the  scum  and  filth  that  attends  conviction  lor 
sin  doth  continually  run,  and  therefore  it  is 
called  the  Slough  of  Despond;  for  still,  as  the 
sinner  is  awakened  about  his  lost  condition, 
there  arise  in  his  soul  many  fears  and  doul)ts, 
and  discouraging-  apprehensions,  which  all  of 
them  get  together,  and  settle  in  this  place : 
and  this  is  the  reason  of  the  badness  of  this 
ground. 

"It  is  not  the  pleasure  of  the  King  that 
this  place  should  remain  so  bad.  Isa.  35  :  3,  4. 
His  laborers  also  have,  by  the  direction  of  his 
Majesty's  surveyors,  been  for  above  these  six- 
teen hundred  years  employed  about  this  patch 
of  ground,  if  perhaps  it  might  have  been 
mended :  yea,  and  to  my  knowledge,"  said 
he,  "there  have  been  swallowed  up  at  least 
twenty  thousand  cartloads,  yea,  millions  of 
wholesome  instructions,  that  have  at  all  sea- 
sons been  brought  from  all  i)laces  of  the  King's 
dominions,  (and  they  that  can  tell,  say  they 
are  the  best  materials  to  make  good  ground 
of  the  place,)  if  so  be  it  might  have  been 
mended;  but  it  is  the  Slough  of  Despond  still. 


154  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

and  so  will  be  when  they  have  done  what  they 
can. 

"True,  there  are,  by  the  direction  of  the 
Lawgiver,  certain  good  and  substan-  The  promises 
tial  steps,  placed  even  through  the  ami  accept'ancc 

^     '    i  '='  to  life  by  faith 

very  midst  of  this  slough ;  but  at  such  '"  *^'"'''- 
time  as  this  place  doth  much  spew  out  its  filth, 
as  it  doth  against  change  of  weather,  these  steps 
are  hardl}^  seen ;  or  if  they  be,  men,  through  the 
dizziness  of  their  heads,  step  beside,  and  then 
they  are  bemired  to  purpose,  notwithstanding 
the  steps  be  there :  but  the  ground  is  good  when 
they  are  once  got  in  at  the  gate."  1  Sam.  12 :23. 
NoAV  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time 
Pliable  was  got  home  to  his  house,  home^'^and^'is 
So  his  neighbors  came  to  visit  him ;  nelghbor^s^  '"' 
and  some  of  them  called  him  wise  man  for  com- 
ing back,  and  some  called  him  fool  for  hazard- 
ing himself  Avith  Christian  :  others,  again,  did 
mock  at  his  cowardliness,  saying,  "  Surely, 
since  you  began  to  venture,  I  would  not  have 
been  so  base  as  to  have  given  out  for  a  few  dif- 
ficulties :"  so  Pliable  sat  sneaking  among  them. 
But  at  last  he  got  more  confidence,  and  then 
they  all  turned  their  tails,  and  began  to  deride 
poor  Christian  behind  his  back.  And  thus 
much  concerniug  Pliable. 


WORLDLY  WISEMAN.  155 

Now  as  Christian  was  walking  solitary  by 

himself,  ho  es|)icd  one  alar  o(F  come  crossing 

Mr.  Worldly  ovor  the  I'leld  to  meet  him  ;  and  their 

Wist'inan  meets 

with  Christian,  ji^p  was  to  mect  jnst  as  they  were 
crossing  the  way  of  each  other.  The  gentle- 
man's name  that  met  him  was  Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman  :  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Carnal  Pol- 
icy, a  very  great  town,  and  also  hard  by  from 
whence  Christian  came.  This  man  then  meet- 
ing with  Christian,  and  having  some  inkling'^  of 
him,  (for  Christian's  setting  forth  from  the  city 
of  Destrnction  was  mneli  noised  abroad,  not 
only  in  the  town  where  he  dwelt,  but  also  it  be- 
gan to  be  the  towntalk  in  some  other  places) — 
Mr.  AVorldly  Wiseman,  therefore,  having  some 
guess  of  him,  by  beholding  his  laborious  going, 
by  observing  his  sighs  and  groans,  and  the  like, 
began  thus  to  enter  into  some  talk  with  Chris- 
tian. 

Mr*'Nv^odcny  WOKLD.    HoW  UOW,    gOOd  fclloW  ; 

Ssmn"^"^  whither  away  after  this  burdened 


manner 


C^iiR.  A  burdened  manner  indeed,  as  ever 
I  think  poor  creature  had  !  And  whereas  you 
ask  me,  AVhither  away  ?  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  am 
going  to  yonder  wicket-gate  before  me  ;    for 

*  Slight  knowledge. 


156  PILGRIM'S  niOGRESS. 

there,  as  I  am  informed,  I  shall  be  put  into  a 
way  to  be  rid  of  my  heav}'  burden. 

World.  Hast  thou  a  wife  and  children? 

Chr.  Yes  ;  but  I  am  so  laden  with  this  bur- 
den that  I  cannot  take  that  pleasure  in  them 
as  formerly:  methinks  I  am  as  if  I  had  none. 

World.  Wilt  thou  hearken  to  me,  if  I  give 
thee  counsel  ? 

Chr.  If  it  be  good,  I  will ;  for  I  stand  in 
need  of  good  counsel. 

World.  I  would  advise  thee,  then,  that  thou 
with  all  speed  get  thj^self  rid  of  thy  worwiyAVise- 

man's    counsel 

burden ;  for  thou  wilt  never  be  set-  to  christian 
tied  in  thy  mind  till  then  :  nor  canst  thou  enjoy 
the  benefits  of  the  blessings  which  God  hath 
bestowed  upon  thee  till  then. 

Chr.  That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even-to 
be  rid  of  this  heavy  burden :  but  get  it  off  my- 
self I  cannot,  nor  is  there  any  man  in  our  coun- 
try that  can  take  it  off  my  shoulders ;  therefore 
I  am  going  this  way,  as  I  told  you,  that  I  may 
be  rid  of  my  burden. 

World.  Who  bid  thee  go  this  way  to  be 
rid  of  thy  burden  ? 

Chr.  a  man  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  a 
very  great  and  honorable  person:  his  name,  as 
I  remember,  is  Evangelist. 


WOKLDLV   WISK.MAN.  157 

AVoiJM).  I  bc'slirt'w'^'  him  lor  liis  counsel! 
there  is  not  a  more  dangerous  and  trouljlesomc 
Av^Ieml\rcolr  '^^''^y  "^  ^^^^  world  than  is  tliat  into 
gSscomiseV.  wliicli  lie  luitli  directed  thee  ;  and  tliat 
thou  shalt  fnid,  if  thou  wilt  l)e  ruled  by  his  coun- 
sel. Thou  hast  met  with  something,  as  I  per- 
ceive, already ;  for  I  sec  the  dirt  of  the  Slough 
of  Despond  is  u})on  thee  :  but  that  slough  is  tlTe 
beginning  of  the  sorrows  that  do  attend  those 
that  go  on  in  that  way.  Hear  me:  I  am  older 
than  thou  :  thou  art  like  to  meet  with,  in  the 
way  which  thou  goest,  wearisomeness,  painful- 
ncss,  hunger,  perils,  nakedness,  sword,  lions, 
dragons,  darkness,  and,  in  a  word,  death,  and 
what  not.  These  things  arc  certainly  true, 
having  been  contirmed  by  many  testimonies. 
And  should  a  man  so  carelessly  cast  away  him- 
self, by  giving  heed  to  a  stranger? 

Chr.  Why,  sir,  this  burden  ui)on  my  liack 
is  more  terrible  to  me  than  all  these  things 
thi' hca?tTf  ''J  which  you  have  mentioned :  nay,  me- 
><mi.g      ins   ^i^jj^i^.g  J  ^,.^y^^  jjQj.  ^vIiqi  J  nicct  with  in 

the  way,  if  so  be  I  can  also  meet  with  deliver- 
ance from  my  burden. 

Would.  How  caniest  thou  by  thy  burden 
at  first  ? 

*  Wish  u  curse  to. 


158  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  By  reading  this  book  in  my  hand. 

World.  I  thought  so  ;  and  it  has  liappened 
unto  thee  as  to  other  weak  men,  Avho,  meddling 
with  things  too  high  for  them,  do  suddenly  fall 
into  thy  distractions ;  which  distrac-     He  does  not 

.  -,  -  ,   .  like   that    men 

tions  do  not  only  unman  men,  as  thine  shoum  be  seri- 

•^  '  ous  in  reading 

[  perceive  have  done  thee,  but  they  "^«^'^'''- 
riTn  them  upon  desperate  ventures,  to  obtain 
they  know  not  what. 

Chr.  I  know  Avhat  I  would  obtain  ;  it  is 
ease  from  my  heavy  burden. 

AVoRLD.  But  why  wilt  thou  seek  for  ease 
this  way,  seeing  so  many  dangers  attend  it? 
especially  since  (hadst  thou  but  patience  to  hear 
me)  I  could  direct  thee  to  the  obtaining  of  what 
thou  desirest,  without  the  dangers  that  thou  in 
this  way  wilt  run  thyself  into.  Yea,  and  the 
remedy  is  at  hand.  Besides,  I  will  add,  that 
instead  of  those  dangers,  thou  slialt  meet  with 
much  safety,  friendship,  and  contefit. 

Chr.  Sir,  I  pray  open  this  secret  to  me. 

World.  Why,  in  yonder  village  (the  village 
is  named  Morality)  there  dwells  a  gentleman 
whose  name  is  Legality,  a  very  judicious  man, 
and  a  man  of  a  ver}"  good  name,  that      He  preiers 

*■  morality  belore 

has  skill  to  help  men  off"  with  such  th«  strait  gate. 
burdens  as  thine  is  from  their  shoulders;  yea, 


WORLDLV    WIrK.M  AN'.  150 

to  my  knowleclti'c.  lie  liath  done  a  .a-rent  deal  of 
good  this  way;  aye,  and  besides,  he  hath  skill 
to  eure  those  that  are  somewhat  erazed  in  their 
wits  with  their  burdens.  To  him,  as  I  said, 
thou  mayest  go,  and  be  helped  presently.  His 
house  is  not  quite  a  mile  from  this  place ;  and 
if  he  should  not  be  at  home  himself,  he  hath  a 
pretty  young  man  to  his  son,  whose  name  is 
Civility,  that  can  do  it  (to  speak  on)  as  well  as 
the  old  gentleman  himself:  there,  I  .«ay,  thou 
mayest  be  eased  of  thy  burden ;  and  if  thou  art 
not  minded  to  go  back  to  thy  former  habitation, 
(as  indeed  I  would  not  wish  thee.)  thou  mayest 
send  for  thy  wife  and  children  to  this  village, 
where  there  are  houses  now  standing  empty, 
one  of  which  thou  mayest  have  at  a  reasonable 
rate  :  provision  is  there  also  cheap  and  good ; 
and  that  which  will  make  thy  life  the  more 
happy  is,  to  be  sure  there  thou  shalt  live  by 
honest  neighbors,  in  credit  and  good  fashion. 

Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand ; 
gnare.rby'>Tr"  ^^^^^  presently  he  concluded,  If  this  be 
mans'lvords**"  truc  whicli  this  gcntlcman  hath  said, 
my  wisest  course  is  to  take  his  advice  :  and 
with  that  he  thus  farther  spoke. 

CiiR.  ^iir.  which  is  my  way  to  this  honest 
man's  house  ? 


IGO  riLG  RIM'S   PROGRESS. 

World.  Do  you  see  yonder  high     Mount  sinai 
hill? 

Chr.  Yes,  very  well. 

World.  By  that  hill  yoii  must  go,  and  the 
first  house  you  come  at  is  his. 

So  Christian  turned  out  of  his  way  to  go 
to  Mr.  Legality's  house  for  help  :  but  behold, 
when  he  was  got  now  hard  by  the  tSlL^'^MTunt't^ 
hill,  it  seemed  so  high,  and  also  that  oiihi'shead/'' 
side  of  it  that  was  next  the  way-side  did  hang 
so  much  over,  that  Christian  was  afraid  to  ven- 
ture further,  lest  the  hill  should  fall  on  his  head ; 
wherefore  there  he  stood  still,  and  wotted  not 
what  to  do.  Also  his  burden  now  seemed  heav- 
ier to  him  than  while  he  was  in  his  way.  There 
came  also  flashes  of  fire,  Exod.  19: 16,  18,  out 
of  the  hill,  that  made  Christian  afraid  that  he 
should  be  burnt :  here  therefore  he  did  sweat 
and  quake  for  fear.  Heb.  12  :21.  And  now 
he  began  to  be  sorry  that  he  had  taken  Mr. 
Worldly  Wiseman's  counsel ;  and  with  that  he 
saw  Evangelist  coming  to  meet  him,  at  the  sight 
also  of  whom  he  began  to  blush  for  shame.  So 
Evangelist  drew  nearer  and  nearer;  fth^^^chrislrali 

T  •  i      1   •         1       1        1       1  under      Mount 

and  coming  up  to  hun,  he  looked  upon  sinai. 

him  with  a  severe  and  dreadful  countenance, 

and  thus  beo:an  to  reason  with  Christian. 


UNDEIl  .MOUNT  SINAI.  IGl 

"Wluit  (locst  tlioii  licre,  CMiristiiin  ?''  said 
Kvanu'clist:  at  wliii-li  Avurds  Cliristian  knew  not 
what  to  answer  ;  wherefore  at  present  he  stood 
Evanpeiist rca-  SDcechless  before   liiin.     Then  said 

8ons  alri'sli  witli 

Christian  Evangelist  further,  "Art  not  thou 
the  man  that  I  found  erying  without  the  walls 
of  the  eity  of  Destruction?" 

CiiH.  Yes.  dear  sir,  I  am  the  man. 

Evan.  Did  not  I  direct  thee  the  way  to  the 
little  wicket-gate  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  dear  sir. 

Evan.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so 
quickly  turned  aside?  For  thou  art  now  out 
of  the  way. 

Chk.  1  met  with  a  gentleman,  so  soon  as  I 
had  got  over  the  Slough  of  Despond,  who  per- 
suaded me  that  I  might,  in  the  village  before 
me,  find  a  man  that  could  take  off  my  burden. 

Evan.  What  was  he  ? 

CiiK.  He  looked  like  a  gentleman,  and  talk- 
ed nnich  to  me,  and  got  ;:ic  at  last  to  yield:  so 
I  came  hither;  but  when  I  beheld  this  hill,  and 
how  it'hangs  over  the  way,  I  suddenly  made  a 
stand,  lest  it  should  fall  on  my  head. 

Evan.  AVliat  said  that  gentleman  to  you? 

Chr.  AVhy,  he  asked  me  whither  T  was  go- 
ing; and  T  told  him. 


162  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Evan.  And  what  said  lie  then? 

Chr.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a  family ;  and 
I  told  him.  •  But,  said  I,  I  am  so  laden  with  the 
burden  that  is  on  my  back,  that  I  cannot  take 
pleasure  in  them  as  formerly. 

Evan.  And  what  said  he  then  ? 

Chr.  He  bid  me  with  speed  get  rid  of  ray 
burden ;  and  I  told  him  it  was  ease  that  I  sought. 
And,  said  I,  I  am  therefore  going  to  yonder 
gate,  to  receive  further  direction  how  I  may  get 
to  the  place  of  deliverance.  So  he  said  that  he 
would  show  me  a  better  way,  and  short,  not  so 
attended  with  difficulties  as  the  way,  sir,  that 
you  set  me  in ;  which  way,  said  he,  will  direct 
you  to  a  gentleman's  house  that  hath  skill  to 
take  off  these  burdens  :  so  I  believed  him,  and 
turned  out  of  that  way  into  this,  if  haply  I  might 
be  soon  eased  of  my  burden.  But  when  I  came 
to  this  place,  and  beheld  things  as  they  are,  I 
stopped,  for  fear,  as  I  said,  of  danger :  but  I 
now  know  not  what  to  do. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  "Stand  still  a  lit- 
tle, that  I  may  show  thee  the  words  of  God." 

So  he  stood  trembling.     Then  said  Evangelist  con- 
vinces  him  of 
Evangelist,  "See  that  ye  refuse  not  hisenor. 

Him  that  speaketh ;  for  if  they  escaped  not  who 

refused  him  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more 


EVANGELIST  CONVINCES  JIIM.  1G3 

shall  not  wc  osca^io,  if  wc  (urn  :i\v;iy  from  Tlim 
that  speaketh  from  heaven.'  Ilei).  12  :25.  lie 
said,  moreover,  "Now  the  just  shall  live  by 
faith  ;  but  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall 
have  no  pleasure  in  him."'  ITeb.  10  :  38.  He 
also  did  thus  apply  them:  "Thou  art  the  man 
that  art  running*  into  this  misery  :  thou  hast 
begun  to  reject  the  counsel  of  the  Most  High, 
and  to  draw  back  thy  foot  from  the  way  of 
peace,  even  almost  to  the  hazarding  of  thy  per- 
dition."' 

Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  feet  as  dead, 
crying,  "Woe  is  me.  for  I  am  undone!''  At  the 
sight  of  which  Evangelist  caught  him  by  the 
right  hand,  saying,  "All  manner  of  sin  and  blas- 
phemies shall  be  forgiven  unto  men.''  Matt. 
12  :  31.  "Be  not  faithless,  but  believing."  John 
20  :  27.  Then  did  Christian  again  a  little  re- 
vive, and  stood  up  trembling,  as  at  first,  before 
Evangelist. 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying,  "Give 
more  earnest  heed  to  the  things -that  I  shall  tell 
'thee  of.  I  will  now  show  thee  who  it  was  that 
deluded  thee,  and  who  it  was  also  to  whom  he 
Wiseman"'"' de^  scut  thcc.  Thc  uiau  that  met  thee  is 
ETSeiist.  ^^  one  Worldly  AViseman,  and  rightly  is 
he  so  called  :  partly  because  he  savoreth  only 


164  PILUIMM'S  FKOGRESS. 

the  doctrine  of  this  world,  1  jTjhii,  4  : 5,  (there- 
fore he  ahvays  goes  to  the  town  of  Morality  to 
church ;)  and  partly  because  he  loveth  that  doc- 
trine best,  for  it  saveth  him  best  from  the  cross, 
Gal.  6:12:  and  because  he  is  of  this  carnal  tem- 
per, therefore  he  seeketh  to  pervert  my  ways, 
though  right.  Now  there  are  three  things  in 
this  man's  counsel  that  thou  must  utterly  abhor. 

"1.  His  turning  thee  out  of  the  way. 

"2.  His  laboring  to  render  the  cross  odious 
to  thee. 

"3.  And  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way 
that  leadeth  unto  the  administration  of  death./' 

"First,  thou  must  abhor  his  turning  thee 
out  of  the  way ;  yea,  and  thine  own  consenting 
thereto  ;  because  this  is  to  reject  the  counsel  of 
God  for  the  sake  of  the  counsel  of  a  Worldly 
Wiseman.  The  Lord  says,  '  Strive  to  enter  in 
at  the  strait  gate,'  Luke  13:24,  the  gate  to 
which  I  send  thee  ;  '  for  strait  is  the  gate  that 
leadeth  unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  iind  it.' 
Matt.  7:13,  14.  From  this  little  wicket-gate, 
and  from  the  way  thereto,  hath  this  wicked  man 
turned  thee,  to  the  bringing  of  thee  almost  to 
destruction  :  hate,  therefore,  his  turning  thee 
out  of  the  way,  and  abhor  thyself  for  hearken- 
ing  to  him. 


KVANCKI.lJ^T   COXVINCES    I1I\[.  Hi.'. 

"SocoimIIv.  llxHi  imisl  ahlior  his  laltoiiiiLi  to 
render  the  eross  odious  unto  thee;  for  thou  art 
to  jtreter  it  l)el'ore  tlie  treasures  of  Euvpt.  1  lei). 
1 1 :  2'),  20.  Besides,  the  King  of  glory  hath  toh' 
ihec.  that  he  that  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it. 
And  he  that  eomes  after  him.  and  hates  not  his 
father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also, 
he  eannot  be  his  disciple.  Mark  8  :38;  John 
12  :  25  ;  Matt.  10  :  39  ;  Luke  14  :  20.  I  say, 
therefore,  for  man  to  labor  to  persuade  thee 
that  that  shall  be  thy  death,  without  which,  the 
ti'uth  hath  said,  thou  canst  not  have  eternal  life, 
this  doctrine  thou  must  abhor. 

"Thirdly,  thou  must  hate  his  setting  of  th^' 
feet  in  the  way  that  leadeth  to  the  ministration 
of  death.  And  for  this  thou  must  consider  to 
whom  he  sent  thee,  and  also  how  unable  that 
person  was  to  deliver  thee  from  thy  burden. 

'"He  to  whom  thou  wast  sent  for  ease,  being 
by  name  Legality,  is  the  son  of  the  bond-woman 
which  now  is,  and  is  in  bondage  with  her  chil- 
dren. Gal.  4  :  21-27,  and  is,  in  a  mystery,  this 
Mount  Sinai,  which  thou  hast  feared  will  fall  on 
thy  head.  Xow,  if  she  with  her  children  are  in 
bondage,  how  canst  thou  expect  by  them  to  be 
made  free?     This  Legalitv,  therefore,  is  not 


1G6  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

able  to  set  thee  free  from  thy  burden.  No  man 
was  as  yet  ever  rid  of  his  burden  by  him  ;  no, 
nor  ever  is  like  to  be  :  ye  cannot  be  justified 
by  the  works  of  the  law;  for  by  the  deeds  of 
the  law  no  man  living  can  be  rid  of  his  burden. 
Therefore  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman  is  an  alien,  and 
Mr.  Legality  is  a  cheat ;  and  for  his  son  Civility, 
notwithstanding  his  simpering  looks,  he  is  but  a 
hypocrite,  and  cannot  help  thee.  Believe  me, 
there  is  nothing  in  all  this  noise  that  thou  hast 
heard  of  these  sottish  men,  but  a  design  to  be- 
guile thee  of  thy  salvation,  by  turning  thee  from 
the  way  in  which  I  had  set  thee."  After  this. 
Evangelist  called  aloud  to  the  heavens  for  con- 
firmation of  what  he  had  said;  and  with  that 
there  came  words  and  fire  out  of  the  mountain 
under  which  poor  Christian  stood,  which  made 
the  hair  of  his  flesh  stand  up.  The  words  were 
thus  pronounced :  "  As  many  as  are  of  the  works 
of  the  law,  are  under  the  curse ;  for  it  is  writ- 
ten, Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in 
all  things  which  are  written  in  the  book  of  the 
hw  to  do  them."     Gal.  3:10. 

Now  Christian  looked  for  nothing  but  death, 
and  began  to  cry  out  lamentably ;  even  cursing 
the  time  in  which  he  met  with  Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman ;  still  calling  himself  a  thousand  fools 


EVANGELIST  CUMFOIlTri  IIIM.  Km 

for  licarkeniug  to  his  counsel.  He  also  was 
greatly  ashamed  to  tJiiiik  that  this  gentleinaii's 
arguments,  flowing  only  fVom  the  flesh,  should 
liave  the  prevalency  with  him  so  far  as  to  cause 
Iiiin  to  forsake  the  light  way.  This  done,  he 
applied  himself  again  to  Evangelist  in  words 
and  sense  as  follows. 

Chr.  Sir,  what  think  j^ou?     Is  there  any 

iioi)e  ?     May  I  now  go  back,  and  go  up  to  the 

wicket-gate?    Shall  I  not  be  abandoned  for  this, 

Christian  in-  and  scut  back  from  thence  ashamed  ? 

quires  if  he  may 

yet  be  happy.  J  qi^j  sorry  I  luivc  licarkencd  to  this 
man's  counsel ;  but  may  my  sin  be  forgiven  ? 

Then  said  Evangelist  to  him,  "Thy  sin  is 
very  great,  for  b}'  it  thou  hast  committed  two 
evils ;  thou  hast  forsaken  the  way  that  is  good, 
comfSs  hfn!."'  to  trcad  in  forbidden  paths.  Yet  will 
the  man  at  the  gate  receive  thee,  for  he  has 
good-will  for  men:  only,"  said  he,  "take  heed 
that  thou  turn  not  aside  again,  lest  thou  'per- 
ish from  the  way,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled 
but  a  little.'"     Psalm  2:12. 


1G8  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


THE  SECOND. STAGE. 

Then  did  Christian  address  himself  to  ge 
back ;  and  Evangelist,  after  he  had  kissed  him, 
gave  him  one  smile,  and  bid  him  God  speed: 
so  he  went  on  with  haste,  neither  spoke  he  to 
any  man  by  the  way  ;  nor  if  any  man  asked 
him,  would  he  vouchsafe  them  an  answer.  He 
went  like  one  that  was  all  the  while  treading 
on  forbidden  ground,  and  could  by  no  means 
think  himself  safe,  till  again  he  was  got  into  the 
way  which  he  had  left  to  follow  Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman's  counsel.  So,  in  process  of  time, 
Christian  got  up  to  the  gate.  Now,  over  the 
gate  there  was  written,  "Knock,  and  it  shall 
be  opened  unto  you."     Matt.  7:7. 

He  knocked,  therefore,  more  than  once  or 
twice,  saying, 

"  I\Iay  I  now  enter  here  ?     "Will  he  within 
Open  to  sorry  me,  though  I  have  been 
An  undeserving  rebel?     Then  shaU  I 
Not  fail  to  sing  his  lasting  praise  on  high." 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  person  to  the  gate, 

named  Goodwill,  who  asked  who  was  there, 

and  whence  he  came,  and  what  he  would  have. 

Chr.  Here  is  a  poor  burdened  sinner.     I 


ENTERS  IX   AT  THE  CATE.  l()t) 

come  from  the  city  of  Destruction,  l)ut  am  <r()in(.- 
to  Blount  Zioii.  that  I  may  be  delivered  from 
the  wrath  to  come  ;  I  would  therefore,  sir,  since 
I  am  informed  that  by  this  gate  is  the  way 
thither,  know  if  you  are  willing  to  let  me  in. 
"I  am  willing  with  all  my  heart,''  said 
The  gate  will  Qoodwill ;  and  w^ith  that  he  opened 

be    opened     to    ^  ■  a 

broken  hearted   ji  „   ™„4.^ 
8;nner8.  thC  gatC. 

So,  when  Christian  was  stei)ping  in,  the  other 
gave  him  a  pull.  Then  said  Christian,  'AVhat 
mealis  that?*'  The  other  told  him,  "A  little 
distance  from  this  gate  there  is  erected  a  strong 
castle,  of  which  Beelzebulj  is  the  captain:  from 
Patan  envies  thcncc  both  lic  aud  thcy  that  are  with 

those  tliat  enter 

the  strait  gate,  jjjjj^  slioot  arrows  at  tliosc  that  come 

up  to  this  gate,  if  haply  they  may  die  before 

Christian  en  i\^Qy  (.qj^  cutcr  iu.''  Thcu  Said  Chris- 

ters     the     gate  ^ 

^LU  ""tian,  '-I  rejoice  and  tremble."  So 
when  he  was  got  in,  the  man  of  the  gate  asked 
him  who  directed  him  thither. 

CiiR.  Evangelist  bid  me  come  hither  and 
Talk  between  kuock,  as  I  did :  aud  he  said  that  you, 

Goodwill      and 

'jhristian.        gij-  -would  tcU  uic  what  I  must  do. 

Good.  An  open  door  is  set  before  thee,  and 
no  man  can  shut  it. 

Chii.  Now  T  begin  to  reap  the  benefit  of  my 
hazards. 


170  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Good.  But  how  is  it  that  you  came  alone  ? 

Chr.  Because  none  of  my  neighbors  saw 
their  clanger  as  I  saw  mine. 

Good.  Did  any  of  them  know  of  your  com- 
ing? 

Chr.  Yes,  my  wife  and  children  saw  me  at^ 
the  first,  and  called  after  me  to  turn  again: 
also,  some  of  my  neighbors  stood  crying  and 
calling  after  me  to  return  ;  but  I  put  my  fingers 
in  my  ears,  and  so  came  on  m}^  way. 

Good.  But  did  none  of  them  follow  yoti,  to 
persuade  you  to  go  l^ack  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  both  Obstinate  and  Pliable ;  but 
when  they  saw  that  they  could  not  prevail. 
Obstinate  went  railing  back,  but  Pliable  came 
with  me  a  little  way. 

Good.  But  why  did  he  not  come  through? 

Chr.  We  indeed  came  both  together  until 
we  came  to  the  Slough  of  Despond,  into  the 
which  we  also  suddenly  fell.  And  then  was 
my  neighbor  Pliable  discouraged,  and  would 
not  venture  further.  Wherefore,  getting  out 
again  on  the  side  next  to  his  own  .  a  man  may 

O  have    company 

house,  he  told  me  I  should  possess  the  o^lf  for'hea4l! 

.  andyetgothith- 

brave  country  alone  lor  hnii :  so  he  er  aioue. 
went  his  wa}^  and  I  came  mine;  he  after  Ob- 
stinate,  and  T  to  this  gate. 


TALK   WITH   GOODWILL.  ITl 

Then  said  (Goodwill,  *'Alas,  poor  man:  is 
the  eelestial  glory  of  so  little  esteem  with  hiiu, 
that  he  counteth  it  not  worth  running  the  haz- 
ard of  a  few  difficulties  to  obtain  it?"' 

"Truly,"  said  Christian,  "I  have  said  the 
cus'n.'^*hin.sdf  truth  of  Pliable ;  and  if  I  should  also 
at tiTegate.'"'"'  Say  all  the  truth  of  myself,  it  will 
appear  there  is  no  betterment  betwixt  him  and 
myself.  It  is  true,  he  went  back  to  his  own 
house,  but  I  also  turned  aside  to  go  into  the 
way  of  death,  being  persuaded  thereto  by  the 
carnal  argument  of  one  ^Ir.  AVorldly  Wise- 
man.'' 

Goon.  Oh,  did  he  light  upon  you  ?  What, 
he  would  have  had  you  seek  for  case  at  the 
hands  of  ^Mr.  Legality  !  They  are  both  of  them 
a  very  cheat.     But  did  you  take  his  counsel  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  as  far  as  I  durst.  I  went  to  find 
out  Mr.  Legality,  until  I  thought  that  the  moun- 
tain that  stands  by  his  house  would  have  fallen 
upon  my  head ;  wherefore  there  was  I  forced 
to  stop. 

Good.  That  mountain  has  been  the  death  of 
many,  and  will  be  the  death  of  many  more :  it  is 
well  you  escaped  being  by  it  dashed  in  pieces. 

Chr.  Why,  truly  I  do  not  know  what  had 
becomo  of  mo  thoro.  had  not  Evangelist  hai>pily 


172.  PILGRnr?  PROGRESS. 

met  me  again  as  1  was  musing  in  the  midst  of 
my  dumps  ;  but  it  was  God's  mercy  that  he 
came  to  me  again,  for  else  I  had  never  come 
hither.  But  now  I  am  come,  such  a  one  as  I 
am,  more  lit  indeed  for  death  by  that  mountain, 
than  thus  to  stand  talking  with  ni}^  Lord.  But 
Oh,  what  a  favor  is  this  to  me,  that  yet  I  am 
admitted  entrance  here! 

Good.  We  make  no  objections  against  any, 
notwithstanding  all  that  they  have  done  before 
they  come  hither ;  they  in  nowise  are  iortld'"''agaT 
cast  out.  John  6:37.  And  therefore,  on'Mswly.''^*"* 
good  Christian,  come  a  little  way  with  me,  and 
I  will  teach  thee  about  the  way  thou  must  go. 
Look  before  thee  ;  dost  thou  see  this  narrow 
way  ?  That  is  the  way  thou  must  go.  It  was 
cast  up  by  the  i)atriarchs,  prophets,  Christ,  and 
his  apostles,  and  it  is  as  straight  as  a  rule  can 
make  it ;  this  is  the  way  thou  must  go. 

"But,"  said  Christian,  "are  there  no  turn- 
ino-s  nor  windinsrs,  by  which  a  stran-  christian  afraid 
ger  may  lose  his  way?"  '^^y- 

Good.  Yes,  there  are  many  Avays  but  down 
upon  this,  and  the}'  are  crooked  and  wide :  but 
thus  thou  mayest  distinguish  the  right  from  the 
wrong,  the  right  only  being  straight  and  nar- 
row.    Matt.  7  :14. 


Till-:  iNTi-:]{i'j{ETEir>s  house.         17:^ 

TluMi  1  saw  ill  my  drcaiu,  tliat  Christian 
or'hi:'buXr^'  asked  him  further,  if  he  could  not 
help  him  off  with  his  burden  that  was  upon  his 
kick.  For  as  yet  he  had  not  got  rid  thereof; 
nor  could  he  l)y  any  means  get  it  off  without 
help. 

liTerancr?rom  Hc    told    lliui,     "  As    tO    thy    bur- 

the    guilt    and  i        ,  ■>  •  -i      i 

burden  of  sin,  deu,  be  content  to  bear  it  until  thou 

but  by  the  death  ' 

VlLt'"""  "'  comest  to  the  place  of  deliverance ; 
for  there  it  will  fall  from  thy  back  of  itself." 

Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins, 
and  to  address  himself  to  his  journey.  So  the 
other  told  him,  that  by  that  he  was  gone  some 
distance  from  the  gate,  he  would  come  to  the 
house  of  the  Interpreter,  at  whose  door  he 
should  knock,  and  he  would  show  him  excel- 
lent things.  Then  Christian  took  his  leave  of 
his  friend,  and  he  again  bid  him  God  speed. 

Then  he  went  on  till  he  came  at  the  house 
of  the  Interpreter,'''  where  he  knocked  over 
Christian  comes  aud  ovcr.     At  last  oiic  camc  to  the 

to  the  liDUse  of 

the  Interpreter.  ^Qor,  aud  askcd  wIk  )  was  there. 

Chk.  Sir,  here  is  a  traveller,  who  was  bid 
by  an  acquaintance  of  the  good  man  of  this 
house  to  call  here  for  my  profit :  1  would  there- 
fore s})eak  with  the  master  of  the  Ikjusc. 

*  The  Holy  Spirit. 


174  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So  he  called  for  the  master  of  the  house, 
who,  after  a  little  time,  came  to  Christian,  and 
asked  him  what  he  would  have. 

"Sir,"  said  Christian,  "I  am  a  man  that 
am  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction,  and  am 
going  to  the  Mount  Zion;  and  I  was  told  by 
the  man  that  stands  at  the  gate  at  the  head  of 
this  way,  that  if  I  called  here  you  would  shoAV 
me  excellent  things,  such  as  would  be  helpful 
to  me  on  my  journey." 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  "Come  in;  I 
will  show  thee  that  which  will  be  tain"' " '"'"' 
profitable  to  thee."  So  he  commanded  his  man 
to  light  the  candle,  and  bid  Chris-  illumination. 
tian  follow  him ;  so  he  had  him  into  a  private 
room,  and  bid  his  man  open  a  door ;  the  which 
when  he  had  done,  Christian  saw  the  picture  of 
a  very  grave  person  hang  up  against  a  b^'avfptctme' 
the  wall ;  and  this  was  the  fashion  of  it :  it  had 
eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in' 
its  hand,  the  law  of  truth  was  written  upon  its 
lips,  the  world  was  behind  its  back;  it  stood 
as  if  it  pleaded  with  men,  and  a  crown  of  gold 
did  hang  over  its  head. 

Then  said  Christian,  "What  means  this?" 

Inter.  The  man  whose  picture  this  is,  is  one 
of  a  thousand :  he  can  bejxet  children,   1  Cor. 


Till-:   I.\TKI!PRKTEir.<    II()l\<E.  175 

4:15,  travail  in  Itirth  with  cliildrcii.  (Jal.  4:10, 
and  nurse  tlieui  hinisclt"  avIk'u  tlicv  are  born. 
m.amngoithc  ^^,^,|  ^ylu'reas  thou  seest  him  with 
his  eyes  lift  up  to  heaven,  tlie  bi'st  of  books  in 
his  liand.  and  the  law  of  truth  writ  on  his  lips: 
it  is  to  show  thee,  that  his  work  is  to  know, 
and  unlbid  dark  thiims  to  sinners;  even  as  also 
thou  seest  him  stand  as  if  he  pleaded  with 
men.  And  whereas  thou  seest  the  world  as 
cast  behind  him.  and  tliat  a  crown  hangs  over 
his  head;  that  is  to  show  thee,  that  slighting 
and  despising  the  things  that  are  present,  for 
the  love  that  he  hath  to  his  Master's  service, 
he  is  sure  in  the  world  that  comes  next  to 
whyheshow  havc  glorv  for  his  reward.     Now, 

cd  him  this  pic- 
ture first,  yai^i  the  Inter})reter,  I  have  showed 

thee  this  picture  first,  because  the  man  whose 
picture  this  is,  is  the  only  man  whom  the  Lord 
of  the  place  whither  thou  art  going  hath  author- 
ized to  be  thy  guide  in  all  difficult  j)laces  thou 
mayest  meet  with  in  the  way:  wherefore  take 
good  heed  to  what  I  have  showed  thee,  and 
bear  well  in  thy  mind  what  thou  hast  seen, 
Jest  in  thy  journey' thou  meet  with  some  that 
pretend  to  lead  thee  right,  but  their  way  goes 
down  to  death. 

Then   he  look  him    1)V  the   hand,  and  led 


176  PILGRIM'S    niOGRESS. 

him  into  a  very  large  parlor  that  was  full  of 
dust,  because  never  swept ;  the  which  after  he 
reviewed  it  a  little  while,  the  Interpreter  called 
for  a  man  to  sweep.  Now,  when  he  began  to 
sweep,  the  dust  began  so  abundantly  to  fly 
about,  that  Christian  had  almost  therewith  been 
choked.  Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  a  dam- 
sel that  stood  by,  "Bring  hither  water,  and 
sprinkle  the  room;"  the  which  when  she  had 
done,  it  was  swept  and  cleansed  with  pleasure. 
Then  said  Christian,  "What  means  this?" 
The  Interpreter  answered,  "This  parlor  is 
the  heart  of  a  man  that  was  never  sanctified 
by  the  sweet  grace  of  the  gospel.  The  dust  is 
his  original  sin,  and  inward  corruptions,  that 
have  defiled  the  whole  man.  He  that  began 
to  sweep  at  first,  is  the  Law;  but  she  that 
brought  water,  and  did  sprinkle  it,  is  the  Gos- 
pel. Now,  whereas  thou  sawest  that  so  soon 
as  the  first  began  to  sweep,  the  dust  did  so 
fly  about  that  the  room  by  him  could  not  be 
cleansed,  but  that  thou  wast  almost  choked 
therewith:  this  is  to  show  thee  that  the  law, 
instead  of  cleansing  the  heart  (by  its  working) 
from  sin,  doth  revive,  Rom.  7:9,  put  strength 
into,  1  Cor.  15  :56,  and  increase  it  in  the  soul, 
Rom.  5  :  20,  even  as  it  doth  discover  and  for- 


TllK   INTKUrHlOTEIlS  iiois?:.  177 

bid  it;  loi"  it  doth  not  give  power  to  subdue. 
Again,  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel  sprinkle  the 
room  with  water,  upon  whieh  it  was  cleansed 
with  }»l(>asure,  this  is  to  show  thee,  that  when 
the  gospel  comes  in  the  sweet  and  precious 
intluences  thereof  to  tlie  lu'art.  llieii.  I  say, 
even  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel  lay  the  dust 
by  s})rinkling  tlie  lloor  with  water,  so  is  sin 
vane  pushed  and  subdued,  and  the  soul  made 
clean,  through  the  faith  of  it,  and  consequently 
lit  for  the  King  of  glory  to  inhabit."  John  15  :  3 ; 
Eph.  5  :  2G  ;  Acts  15  :  9  ;  Rom.  10  :  25,  26. 

I  saw  moreover  in  my  dream,  that  the  In- 
terpreter took  him  by  the  hand,  and  had  him 
Heshowedhim  iuto  a  Httlc  rooui,  whcrc  sat  two  lit- 

Passion  and  I'a- 

ticuce.  tie  children,  each  one  in  his  chair. 

The  name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  the 
name  of  the  other  Patience.  Passion  seemed 
to  be  much  discontented,  but  Patience  was 
very  quiet.  Then  Christian  asked,  "What  is 
the  reason  of  the  discontent  of  Passion?"  The 
have^unoV"  Interpreter  answered,  "The  govern- 
or of  them  would  have  him  stay  for  his  best 
things  till  the  beginning  of  the  next  year,  but 

^Patience  is  lor  jjg    ^^.j^    1,.^^^^   .ill    UOW  ;    but'PatieUCe 

is  willing  to  wait." 

Then  I  saw  that  one  came  to  Passion,  and 

8* 


178  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


brought  him  a  bag  of  treasure,  and  poured  it 
down  at  his  feet ;  the  which  he  took  ,,i/'fS'  ^^^^ 
up,  and  rejoiced  therein,  and  withal  aiTawIy!""'"'^ 
laughed  Patience  to  scorn.  But  I  beheld  but 
a  while,  and  he  had  lavished  all  away,  and 
had  nothing  left  him  but  rags. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter, 
"Expound  this  matter  more  fully  to  me." 

So  the  Interpreter  said,  "These  two  lads 
are  figures :  Passion  of  the  men  of  this  world, 
and  Patience  of  the  men  of  that  which  is  to 
come;  for,  as  here  thou  seest.  Passion  will 
have  all  now,  this  year,  that  is  to  say,  in  this 
world;  so  are  the  men  of  this  world:  they 
must  have  all  their  good  things  now;  they 
cannot  stay  till  the  next  year,  that  is,  until 
the  next  world,  for  their  portion  of  good. 
That  proverb,  '  A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth 
two  in  the  bush,"  is  of  more  author-     The  woridiy 

man  for  a  bird 

ity  with  them  than  are  all  the  divine  '» ^^"^  'i^"** 
testimonies  of  the  good  of  the  world  to  come. 
But  as  thou  sawest  that  he  had  quickly  lav- 
ished all  away,  and  had  presently  left  him 
nothing  but  rags,  so  will  it  be  with  all  such 
men  at  the  end  of  this  world." 

Then  said  Christian,  "  Now  I  see  the^b^estwlsdom'^ 
that  Patience  has  the  best  wisdom,  and  that 


THE  INTKltPKETEirS  HOUSE.  170 

Upon  nuiiiy  accounts.  1.  Because  he  stays  for 
the  best  things.  2.  And  also  because  he  will 
have  the  glory  of  his,  when  the  other  has  noth» 
ing  but  rags." 

Inter.  Nay,  a'Ou  may  add  another,  to  wit, 
the  glory  of  the  next  world  will  never  wear 
out;  but  these  are  suddenly  gone.  Therefore 
Passion  had  not  so  much  reason  to  laugh  at 
Patience  because  he  had  his  good  things  first. 
Things  that  as  Patience  will  have  to  laugh  at 

are    first    must  t-»  •  i  i  i        n      i   •        i         x 

give  place,  but  Passion    bccausc    he   had    his   best 

things  that  are 

last  are  lasting,    ^j^jj^^g  ^^^^  .    f^^^.  ||,.^^  ^^^^^^^  ^,j^.^  pj^^^^ 

to  last,  because  last  must  have  his  time  to 
come :  but  last  gives  place  to  nothing,  for  there 
is  not  another  to  succeed.  He,  therefore,  that 
hath  his  portion  first,  must  needs  have  a  time 
to  s})end  it ;  but  he  that  hath  his  portion  last, 
must  have  it  lastingly:  therefore  it  is  said  of 
Dives,  'In  thy  lifetime  thou  receivedst  thy 
goodth.n'Sin't  good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus 
evil  things ;  but  now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou 
art  tormented."     Luke  IG  :  25. 

Chr.  Then  I  perceive  it  is  not  best  to  covet 
things  that  are  now,  but  to  wait  for  things  to 


The  first  things        IxTER.  You  sav  trutli ;  for  thc 

are  but  tcmpo- 

"*'•  things  that  are  seen  are  temporal,  but 


180  PILGRIM'S  rROGRESS. 

the  tilings  that  are  not  seen  are  eternal.  2  Cor. 
4:18.  But  though  this  be  so,  yet,  since  things 
present  and  our  fleshly  appetite  are  such  near 
neighbors  one  to  another;  and  again,  because 
things  to  come  and  carnal  sense  are  such  stran- 
gers one  to  another ;  therefore  it  is,  that  the  first 
of  these  so  suddenly  fall  into  amity,  and  that 
distance  is  so  continued  between  the  second. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  Inter- 
preter took  Christian  by  the  hand,  and  led 
him  into  a  place  where  was  a  fire  burning 
against  a  wall,  and  one  standing  by  it,  always 
casting  nuich  water  upon  it,  to  quench  it ;  yet 
did  the  fire  burn  higher  and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  "What  means  this?" 
The  Interpreter  answered,  "This  fire  is  the 
work  of  grace  that  is  wrought  in  the  heart :  he 
that  casts  water  upon  it,  to  extinguish  and  put 
it  out,  is  the  devil ;  but  in  that  thou  seest  the 
fire  notwithstanding  burn  higher  and  hotter, 
thou  slialt  also  see  the  reason  of  that.''  So  he 
had  him  about  to  the  back  side  of  the  wall, 
where  he  saw  a  man  with  a  vessel  of  oil  in  his 
hand,  of  the  which  he  did  also  continually  cast 
(but  secretly)  into  the  fire. 

Then  said  Christian,  "What  means  this?" 
The  Interpreter  answered,  "This  is  Christ, 


TiiK  ixti-:iii'I!i:ti-:ii'.<  iiorsi;.  i^l 

wlio  eoiitiimally.  with  tlic  oil  of  his  <:i-a(.'e, 
maintains  the  work  already  l)t',i:un  in  the  licart; 
hy  the  means  of  which,  notwitlistandinii"  what 
llie  devil  ean  (h).  the  souls  of  his  people  })rovc 
gracious  still,  l^  C\)r.  12  :  9.  And  in  that  thou 
sawest  that  the  man  stood  behind  the  wall  to 
maintain  the  lire,  this  is  to  teach  thee  that  it 
is  liard  for  the  tempted  to  see  how  this  work 
of  grace  is  maintained  in  the  soul."' 

I  saw  also  that  the  Interpreter  took  liiui 
again  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  pleasant 
place,  where  was  built  a  stately  ])alace,  beau- 
tiful to  behold ;  at  the  sight  of  which  Christian 
was  greatly  delighted.  He  saw  also  upon  the 
top  thereof  certain  j)ersons  walking,  who  WTre 
clothed  all  in  gold. 

Then  said  Christian,  "May  we  go  in  thither?'' 
Then  the  Interpreter  took  him,  and  led 
him  \\\)  towards  the  door  of  the  i)alace;  and 
behold,  at  the  door  stood  a  great  company  of 
men,  as  desirous  to  go  in,  but  durst  not. 
There  also  sat  a  man  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  door,  at  a  table-side,  with  a  book  and  his 
inkhorn  before  him,  to  take  the  names  of  them 
that  should  enter  therein;  he  saw  also  that  in 
the  doorway  stood  many  men  in  armor  to  keej) 
it,  being  resolved  to  do  to  the  men  that  would 


182  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

enter,  what  hiu't  and  mischief  they  could. 
Now  was  Christian  somewhat  in  amaze.  At 
last,  when  every  man  started  back  for  fear  of 
the  armed  men.  Christian  saw  a  man  of  a  very 
stout  countenance  come  up  to  the  man  that  sat 
there  to  write,  saying,  "Set  down  man.^°  ""''^"^ 
my  name,  sir ;"  the  which  when  he  had  done, 
he  saw  the  man  draw  his  sword,  and  put  a 
helmet  on  his  head,  and  rush  towards  the  door 
upon  the  armed  men,  Avho  laid  upon  him  with 
deadly  force ;  but  the  man,  not  at  all  discour- 
aged, fell  to  cutting  and  hacking  most  fierce- 
ly. So  after  he  had  received  and  given  many 
wounds  to  those  that  attempted  to  keep  him 
out.  Matt.  11  :  12,  Acts  14  :  22,  he  cut  his  way 
through  them  all,  and  pressed  forward  into  the 
palace;  at  which  there  was  a  pleasant  voice 
heard  from  those  that  were  within,  even  of 
those  that  walked  upon  the  top  of  the  palace, 
saying, 

"  Come  in,  come  in, 
Eternal  glory  thou  slialt  win." 

So  he  went  in,  and  was  clothed  with  such  gar- 
ments as  they.  Then  Christian  smiled,  and  said, 
"I  think  verily  I  know  the  meaning  of  this. 

"Now,"  said  Christian,  "let  me  go  hence."' 
"Nay,  stay,"  said  the  Interpreter,  "till  T  have 


Till-:  iNTEHPi{ETi-:ir8  norsK.         183 

sIiowimI  thee  a  little  more,  and  after  that  thou 
shalt  go  on  thy  way."'  So  he  took  him  hy 
anScago""'  the  luiml  again,  and  led  him  into  a 
very  dark  room,  where  there  sat  a  man  in  an 
iron  cage. 

Now  the  man,  to  look  on,  seemed  very 
sad;  he  sat  with  his  eyes  looking  down  to 
the  ground,  his  hands  folded  together,  and  he 
sighed  as  if  he  would  break  his  heart.  Then 
said  Christian,  'What  means  this?''  At  whieli 
the  Interpreter  bid  him  talk  with  the  man. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  man,  'What 
art  thou?"  The  man  answered,  "I  am  what  I 
was  not  once."' 

Chr.  What  wast  thou  once  ? 

The  man  said,  "I  was  once  a  fair  and 
laourishing  professor,  Luke  8:13,  both  in  mine 
own  eyes,  and  also  in  the  eyes  of  others:  I 
onoe  was,  as  I  thought,  fair  for  the  celestial 
city,  and  had  then  even  joy  at  the  thoughts 
that  I  should  get  thither." 

Chr.  Well,  but  what  art  thou  now  ? 

Max.  I  am  now  a  man  of  despair,  and  am 
shut  up  in  it.  as  in  this  iron  cage.  I  cannot 
get  out :  Oh  now  I  cannot ! 

Chr.  But  how  camest  thou  into  this  condi- 
tion '! 


184  riLG  RIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Man.  I  left  off  to  watch  and  be  sober:  I 
laid  the  reins  upon  the  neck  of  my  lusts;  I 
sinned  against  the  light  of  the  word,  and  the 
goodness  of  Grod;  I  have  grieved  the  Spirit, 
and  he  is  gone ;  I  tempted  the  devil,  and  he  is 
come  to  me ;  I  have  provoked  God  to.  anger, 
and  he  has  left  me ;  I  have  so  hardened  my 
heart,  that  I  cannot  repent. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter, 
"But  is  there  no  hope  for  such  a  man  as  this?"' 
"Ask  him,"  said  the  Interpreter. 

Then  said  Christian,  "Is  there  no  hope,  but 
you  must  be  kept  in  the  iron  cage  of  despair  ?" 

Man.  No,  none  at  all. 

Chr.  Why,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  is  very 
pitiful. 

Man.  I  have  crucified  him  to  myself  afresh, 
Heb.  6  :  6 ;  I  have  despised  his  person,  Luke 
19:14;  I  have  despised  his  righteousness;  I 
have  counted  his  blood  an  unholy  thing;  I 
have  done  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace,  Heb. 
10  :  29  ;  therefore  I  have  shut  n^yself  out  of  all 
the  promises,  and  there  now  remains  to  me 
nothing  but  threatenings,  dreadful  threaten- 
ings,  faithful  threatenings  of  certain  judgment 
and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour  me 
as  an  adversarv. 


TlIK   IXTKIirRKTERS   HOU.^K.  185 

CiiR.  For  what  did  you  l)i'iii.u'  yoiifscir  iiilo 
this  condition  ? 

Max.  For  tlio  lusts,  pleasures,  and  profits 
of  this  world,  in  the  cnjo3'ment  of  which  I  did 
then  promise  myself  much  delight;  but  now 
every  one  of  those  things  also  bite  me,  and 
gnaw  me  like  a  burning  worm. 

Chr.  But  canst  thou  not  now  rejient  and 
turn  ? 

Max.  God  hath  denied  me  repentance. 
His  word  gives  me  no  encouragement  to  be- 
lieve; yea,  himself  hath  shut  me  uj)  in  this 
iron  cage ;  nor  can  all  the  men  in  the  Avorld 
let  me  out.  Oh,  eternity!  eternity!  how  shall 
I  grapple  with  the  misery  that  I  must  meet 
with  in  eternity? 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian, 
"Let  this  man's  misery  be  remembered  by 
thee,  and  be  an  everlasting  caution  to  thee." 

"Well,"  said  Christian,  "this  is  fearful! 
God  help  me  to  watch  and  to  be  sober,  and  to 
pray  that  I  may  shun  the  cause  of  this  man's 
mi.serv.     Sir,  is  it  not  time  for  me  to  go  on 


9?? 


my  way  now 

IxTER.   Tarry  till    I    shall   show    thee   one 
thing  more,  and  then  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  wa}'. 

So  he  took  Christian  by  the  hand  again, 


186  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  led  him  into  a  clianiber  where  there  was 
one  rising  out  of  bed ;  and  as  he  put  on  his 
raiment,  he  shook  and  trembled.  Then  said 
Christian,  "Why  doth  this  man  thus  tremble?" 
The  Interpreter  then  bid  him  tell  to  Christian 
the  reason  of  his  so  doing. 

So  he  began,  and  said,  "This  night,  as  I 
was  in  ray  sleep,  I  dreamed,  and  behold,  the 
heavens  grew  exceeding  black;  also  it  thun- 
dered and  lightened  in  most  fearful  wise,  that 
it  put  me  into  an  agony.  So  I  looked  up  in 
my  dream,  and  saw  the  clouds  rack  at  an 
unusual  rate;  upon  which  I  heard  a  great 
sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  saw  also  a  man  sitting 
upon  a  cloud,  attended  with  the  thousands  of 
heaven :  they  were  all  in  flaming  lire ;  also  the 
heavens  were  in  a  burning  flame.  I  heard 
then  a  voice,  saying,  'Arise,  ye  dead,  and 
come  to  judgment.'  And  with  that  the  rocks 
rent,  the  graves  opened,  and  the  dead  that 
were  therein  came  forth:  some  of  them  were 
exceedingly  glad,  and  looked  upward;  and 
some  sought  to  hide  themselves  under  the 
mountains.  Then  I  saw  the  man  that  sat  upon 
the  cloud  open  the  book,  and  bid  the  world 
draw  near.  Yet  there  was,  by  reason  of  a 
tierce  flame  that  issued  out  and  came  from  be- 


THE  INTERPRETER'S  HOUSE.  1^7 

fore  liim,  a  convenient  distance  between  liim 
and  them,  as  between  the  jndge  and  the  pris- 
oners at  the  bar.  1  Cor.  15;  1  Thess.  4:10; 
Jude  15;  John  5:28,  29;  2  Thess.  1:8-10; 
Rev.  20:11-14;  Isa.  20:21;  Micah7:lG,  IT; 
Psa.  5:4;  50:1-3;  Mai.  3:2,  3;  Dan.  7:9, 
10.  I  heard  it  also  proclaimed  to  them  that 
attended  on  the  man  that  sat  on  the  clond, 
'Gather  together  the  tares,  the  chaff,  and  stub- 
ble, and  cast  them  into  the  burning  lake.' 
Matt.  3:12;  18:30;  24  :  30 ;  Mai.  4  : 1.  And 
with  that  the  bottomless  pit  opened  just  where- 
about I  stood ;  out  of  the  mouth  of  which  there 
came,  in  an  abundant  manner,  smoke,  and  coals 
of  fire,  with  hideous  noises.  It  was  also  said 
to  the  same  persons,  'Gather  my  wdieat  into 
the  garner.'  Luke  3:17.  And  with  that  I 
saw  many  catched  up  and  carried  away  into 
the  clouds,  but  I  was  left  behind.  1  Thess. 
4  :  10,  17.  I  also  sought  to  hide  myself,  but  I 
could  not,  for  the  man  that  sat  upon  the  cloud 
still  kept  his  eye  upon  me ;  my  sins  arlso  came 
'into  my  mind,  and  my  conscience  did  accuse 
me  on  every  side.  Rom.  2:14,  15.  Upon 
this  I  awakened  from  my  sleep." 

Cnu.  But  what  was  it  that  made  you  so 
afraid  of  this  sight  ? 


188  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Man.  Wli}^,  I  thought  that  the  day  of  judg- 
ment was  come,  and  that  I  was  not  ready  for 
it:  but  this  frighted  me  most,  that  the  angels 
gathered  up  several,  and  left  me  behind ;  also 
the  pit  of  hell  opened  her  mouth  just  where  I 
stood.  My  conscience  too  afflicted  me  •  and,  as 
I  thought,  the  Judge  had  always  his  eye  upon 
me,  showing  indignation  in  his  countenance. 

Then   said   the    Interpreter   to   Christian, 
"Hast  thou  considered  all  these  things?" 
'     Chr.  Yes,  and  they  put  me  in  hope  and 
fear. 

Inter.  Well,  keep  all  things  so  in  thy 
mind  that  they  may  be  as  a  goad  in  thy  sides, 
to  prick  thee  forward  in  the  way  thou  must  go. 

Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins, 
and  to  address  himself  to  his  journey.  Then 
said  the  Interpreter,  "The  Comforter  be  al- 
ways with  thee,  good  Christian,  to  guide  thee 
in  the  way  that  leads  to  the  city."  So  Chris- 
tian went  on  his  way,  saying, 

"  Here  I  have  seen  things  rare  and  profitable, 
Things  pleasant,  dreadful,  things  to  make  me  stable 
In  what  I  have  begun  to  take  in  hand : 
Then  let  me  think  on  them,  and  understand 
Wherefore  they  showed  me  were,  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,  0  good  Interpreter,  to  thee." 


L().<K^^  HIS   15ri:i>KN.  18«» 


THE  THIRD  STAGE. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  tliat  tlic  lii^iliway 
■np  which  Christian  was  to  tio.  was  fenced  on 
either  side  with  a  wall,  and  that  wall  was 
called  Salvation.  Isa.  20:1.  Up  this  way, 
therefore,  did  burdened  Christian  run,  but  not 
without  great  difficulty,  because  of  the  load  on 
his  back. 

He  ran  thus  till  he  came  at  a  place  some- 
what ascending;  and  upon  that  place  stood  a 
cross,  and  a  little  below,  in  the  bottom,  a  sep- 
ulchre. So  1  saw  in  my  dream,  that  just  as 
Christian  came  up  with  the  cross,  his  burden 
loosed  from  off  his  shoulders,  and  fell  from  oft' 
his  back,  and  began  to  tumble,  and  so  con- 
tinued to  do  till  it  came  to  the  mouth  of  the 
sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  saw  it  no 
more. 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome, 
wiunGodre-  aud  sald  wMth  a  merry  heart,   "He 

leases  us  of  our  '' 

§en.\v"'are"as  hath  givcu  uio  rcst  by  his  sorrow,, 
lorjoy"'"'  '""^  and  life  ])y  his  death."  Then  he 
stood  still  a  while,  to  look  and  ^vonder";  for  it 
was  very  surprising  to  him  that  the  sight  of 
the  cross  should  thus  ease  him  of  his  burden. 


190  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

He  looked,  therefore,  and  looked  again,  even 
till  the  springs  that  were  in  his  head  sent  the 
waters  down  his  cheeks.  Zech.  12:10.  Now 
as  he  stood  looking  and  weeping,  behold,  three 
Shining  Ones  came  to  him,  and  saluted  him 
with,  "Peace  be  to  thee."  So  the  first  said  to 
him,  ''Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee,"  Mark  2:5; 
the  second  stripped  him  of  his  rags,  and  clothed 
him  with  change  of  raiment,  Zech.  3:4;  the 
third  also  set  a  mark  on  his  forehead,  Eph. 
1:13,  and  gave  him  a  roll  with  a  seal  upon  it, 
which  he  bid  him  look  on  as  he  ran,  and  that 
he  should  give  it  in  at  the  celestial  gate:  so 
they  w^ent  their  wa}^     Then  Chris-     a  christian 

.  TO-  ^    can  sing  though 

tian  irave  three  leai)s  tor  loy,  and  aione.whenood 

"-  i  o    ^  J  doth    give    him 

went  on  singing,  joy  in  his  heart. 

"Thus  far  did  I  come  laden  with  ray  sin, 
Nor  could  aught  ease  the  grief  that  I  was  in, 
Till  I  came  hither.     What  a  place  is  this ! 
Must  here  be  the  beginning  of  my  bliss  ? 
Must  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back  ? 
Must  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me  crack? 
Blest  cross !  blest  sepulchre  !  blest,  rather,  be 
The  Man' that  there  was  put  to  shame  for  me  ! " 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  he  went  on 
tnus,  even  until  he  came  at  the  bottom,  where 
he  saw,  a  little  out  of  the  way,  three    simple, sioth, 

and     Presump- 

men  fast  asleep,  with  fetters  upon  """• 
their  heels.     The  name  of  the  one  was  Simple, 


SI.MI'LK.  ;>L()TI1.   AXI»   Ti:  K.- T  M  I'TIUX  .     191 

of  niiotlioi-  Slotli.   and  of  tlic  third   Pr('siiiii|)- 
tioii. 

Christian  then  sei'liig'  thiMii  lie  in  this  case, 
wont  to  tlicni.  it'  ))erad venture  he  mio-ht  awake 
them,  and  cried,  'You  are  like  tlieni  that  slecj) 
on  the  top  of  a  mast.  Prov.  23  :  84.  for  the 
Dead  t^ea  is  under  you,  a  <rulf  that  hath  no 
bottom:  awake,  therefore,  and  come  away;  be 
willing  also,  and  I  will  help  you  off  with  your 
irons."  He  also  told  them.  "If  he  that  "oeth 
about  like  a  roaring  lion,  1  Pet.  5:8.  comes 
by.  you  will  certainly  become  a  prey  to  his 
teeth."'  With  that  they  looked  upon  him.  and 
began  to  reply  in  this  sort:  Simple  said.  '1 
see  no  danger;"  Sloth  said,  ''Yet  a  little 
pereullfon'wm  "lore  sleep;"'  and  Presumption  said, 
ctiinoVthe°Te".  "  Evcry  tub  must  stand  upon  its  own 
bottom."  And  so  they  lay  down  to  sleep 
again,  and  Christian  went  on  his  way. 

Yet  he  was  troubled  to  think  that  men  in 
that  danger  should  so  little  esteem  the  kindness 
of  him  that  so  freely  offered  to  help  them,  both 
by  awakening  of  them,  counselling  of  them, 
and  prolfering  to  help  them  off  with  their  irons. 
And  as  he  was  troubled  thereabout,  he  espied 
two  men  come  tumbling  over  the  wall,  on  the 
left  hand  of  the  narrow  way ;  and  the.y  made 


192  PILGRIM'S  PROCxRESS. 

up  apace  to  him.  The  name  of  the  one  was 
Formalist,  and  the  name  of  the  otlier  Hypoc- 
risy. So,  as  I  said,  they  drew  np  unto  him, 
who  thus  entered  with  them  into  discourse. 

Chr.  Gentlemen,  whence  came  wuhthem/"'''^' 
you,  and  Avhither  do  you  go  ? 

Form,  and  Hyp.  We  were  born  in  the  land 
of  Vainglory,  and  arc  going,  for  i)raise,  to 
Mount  Zion. 

Chr.  Why  came  you  not  in  at  the  gate 
which  standeth  at  the  beginning  of  the  way  ? 
Know  ye  not  that  it  is  written,  that  "he  that 
Cometh  not  in  by  the  door,  but  climbeth  up 
some  other  way,  the  same  is  a  thief  and  a  rob- 
ber?"    John  10:1. 

Formalist  and  Hypocrisy  said,  that  "to  go 
to  the  gate  for  entrance  was  by  all  their  coun- 
trymen counted  too  far  about;  and  that  there- 
fore their  usual  way  was  to  make  a  short  cut 
of  it,  and  to  climb  over  the  wall,  as  they  had 
done." 

Chr.  But  will  it  not  be  counted  a  trespass 
against  the  Lord  of  the  city  whither  we  are 
bound,  thus  to  violate  his  revealed  will  ? 

They  told  him,  that  "as  for  that,  he  needed 
not  to  trouble  his  head  thereabout:  for  what 
they  did  they  had  custom  for,  and  could  pro- 


FORMALIST   AND  IIYPUCRISV.  193 

duee,  if  need  wore,  testimony  that  would  wit- 
ness it  for  more  tluin  a  tliousand  years." 

"But,-'  said  Christian,  "will  3'ou  stand  a 
trial  at  law?" 

They  told  him,  that  "custom,  it  being  of 
im^thf  waT  ^'^  l<^»g'  standing  as  above  a  thou- 
door°thinkthat  Sand  veai's,  would  doubtless  now  be 

tliey    can     say 

vrdicS  I,'}  admitted  as  a  thing  legal  by  an  im- 

their  own  prac  x-    i      •      n  i      i         •  i         m  •  -i 

tice.  partial  judge;    and   besides,      said 

they,  "if  we  get  into  the  way,  what  matter  is 
it  which  way  we  get  in  ?  If  we  are  in,  we  are 
in:  thou  art  but  in  the  way,  who,  as  w^e  per- 
ceive, came  in  at  the  gate;  and  we  also  are  in 
the  way,  that  came  tumbling  over  the  wall : 
wherein  now  is  thy  condition  better  than  ours?" 

Chu.  I  walk  by  the  rule  of  my  Master; 
you  walk  b}-  the  rude  working  of  your  fancies. 
You  are  counted  thieves  already  by  the  Lord 
of  the  way ;  therefore  I  doubt  you  will  not  be 
found  true  men  at  the  end  of  the  way.  You 
come  in'  by  yourselves  without  his  direction, 
and  shall  go  out  by  yourselves  without  his 
mercy. 

To  this  they  made  him  but  little  answer* 
only  they  bid  him  look  to  himself.  Then  I 
saw  that  they  went  on,  every  man  in  his  way, 
without   much    conference   one  with  another. 


liH  PlL(;RI.^r•p  progress. 

siivc  that  these  two  men  told  Christian,  that 
as  to  laws  and  ordinances,  they  doubted  not 
but  that  they  should  as  conscientiously  do  them 
as  he.  ''Therefore,"  said  they,  "we  see  not 
wherein  thou  differest  from  us,  but  b}'  the  coat 
that  is  on  thy  back,  which  was,  as  we  trow, 
given  thee  by  some  of  thy  neighbors,  to  hide 
the  shame  of  thy  nakedness." 

Chr.  By  laws  and  ordinances  3^ou  will  not 
be  saved,  since  you  came  not  in  by  the  door. 
Gal.  2  :16.  And  as  for  this  coat  that  is  on 
my  back,  it  w^as  given  me  by  the  Lord  of  the 
place  whither  I  go ;  and  that,  as  you  say,  to 
cover  my  nakedness  with.  And  I  take  it  as  a 
token  of  kindness  to  me;  for  I  had  nothing 
but  rags  before.  And  besides,  thus  christian  has 
I  comfort  mvself  as  I  go.     Surely,  coat  o„  his  back, 

*-'  "  '    and  IS  comfort- 

think  I,  when  I  come  to  the  gate  of  '"^  ^'"■^'=""'" 
the  city,  the  Lord  thereof  will  know  me  for 
good,  since  I  have  his  coat  on  my  back ;  a  coat 
that  he  gave  me  freely  in  the  day  that  he 
stripped  me  of  my  rags.      I  have,  JaisowmrhL 

>      .  f"         1  1     mark    and    liis 

moreover,  a  mark  m  my  lorenead,  rou. 
of  which  perhaps  you  have  taken  no  notice, 
which  one  of  my  Lord's  most  intimate  asso- 
ciates fixed  there  in  the  day  that  my  burden 
fell  off  my  shoulders.     I  will  tell  you,  more- 


THE  HILL  DIFFICULTY.  195 

over,  Ihut  1  had  then  <;iveii  me  ii  roll  sealed, 
to  comfort  mc  by  reading  as  I  go  on  the  way ; 
I  was  also  bid  to  give  it  in  at  the  celestial 
gate,  in  token  of  my  certain  going  in  alter 
it  :  all  which  things  I  doubt  yon  want,  and 
want  them  because  you  came  not  in  at  the 
gate. 

To  these  things  they  gave  him  no  answer ; 

only  they  looked  upon  each  other,  and  laughed. 

Christian  has  Thcu  I  saw  that  tlicy  went  all  on, 

taJk  with  him- 

^^"  save  that  Christian  kept  before,  who 

had  no  more  talk  but  with  himself,  and  that 
sometimes  sighingly,  and  sometimes  comforta- 
bly: also  he  would  be  often  reading  in  the 
roll  that  one  of  the  Shining  Ones  gave  him.  l)y 
which  he  was  refreshed. 

I  beheld  then,  that  they  all  went  on  till 
He  comes  to  thcv  cauic   to   thc   foot  of  thc  hill 

the  hill  Diflicul- 

*y  Difficulty,  at  the  bottom  of  which 

there  was  a  spring.  Tliere  were  also  in  the 
same  place  two  other  ways  besides  that  which 
came  straight  from  the  gate:  one  turned  to  tin 
left  hand,  and  tlie  othei-  to  the  right,  at  tli( 
bottom  of  the  hill;  but  the  narrow  way  lay 
right  up  the  hill,  and  the  name  of  the  going  uj) 
the  side  of  the  hill  is  called  Difficulty.  Chris- 
tian now  went  to  the  s|)ring.    Isa.  49:10,  and 


196  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

drank   thereof  to   refresh   himself,   and  then 
began  to  go  up  the  hill,  saying, 

"  The  hill,  though  high,  I  covet  to  ascend ; 
The  difficulty  will  not  me  offend ; 
For  I  perceive  the  way  to  life  lies  here : 
Come,  pluck  up  heart,  let 's  neither  faint  nor  fear. 
Better,  though  difficult,  the  right  way  to  go, 
Than  wrong,  though  easy,  Avhere  the  end  is  woe." 

The  other  two  also  came  to  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  But  when  they  saw  that  the  hill  was 
steep  and  high,  and  that  there  were  two  other 
ways  to  go ;  and  supposing  also  that  these  two 
ways  might  meet  again  with  that  up  which 
Christian  went,  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill ; 
therefore  they  were  resolved  to  go  in  those 
ways.  Now  the  name  of  one  of  those  ways 
was  Danger,  and  the  name  of  the  other  De- 
struction. So  the  one  took  the  way  which  is 
called  Danger,  which  led  him  into    The  danger  of 

turning  out  of 

a  great  wood ;  and  the  other  took  ^^e  way. 
directly  up  the  way  to  Destruction,  which  led 
him  into  a  wide  field  full  of  dark  mountains, 
where  he  stumbled  and  fell,  and  rose  no  more. 
I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him 
go  up  the  hill,  where  I  perceived  he  fell  from 
running  to  going,  and  from  going  to  clambering 
upon  his  hands  and  his  knees,  because  of  the 
steepness  of  the-  place.      Now  about  the  mid- 


THE  AKl'.OII.  107 

way  to  llio  toj)  of  tlic  hill  was  a  pleasant 
graced""'  "'Arbor,  made  by  the  Lord  of  the 
hill  for  the  refreshment  of  weary  travellers. 
Thither,  therefore,  Christian  got,  where  also 
he  sat  down  to  rest  him:  then  he  pulled  his 
roll  out  of  his  bosom,  and  read  therein  to  his 
comfort;  he  also  now  began  afresh  to  take  a 
review  of  the  coat  or  garment  that  was  given 
to  him  as  he  stood  by  the  cross.  Thus  pleas- 
ing himself  awhile,  he  at  last  fell  into  a  slum- 
ber, and  thence  into  a  fast  sleep,  which  de- 
tained him  in  that  place  until  it  was  almost 
night ;  and  in  his  sleep  his  roll  fell  out  of  his 
is"'ioi;r'*''^hand.  Now,  as  he  was  sleeping, 
there  came  one  to  him,  and  awaked  him,  say- 
ing, "Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard;  consider 
her  ways,  and  be  wise."  Prov.  6  : 6.  And 
with  that,  Christian  suddenly  started  up,  and 
sped  him  on  his  way,  and  went  apace  till  he 
came  to  the  top  of  the  hill. 

Now  when  he  was  got  up  to  the  top  of  the 
hill,  there  came  two  men  running  amain;  the 
Christian moeta  uamc  of  thc  ouc  was  Tluiorous,  and 

■with      Mistrust 

and  Timorous,  of  \\^q  othcr  Mistrust  I  to  whom  Chris- 
tian said,  "Sirs,  what's  the  matter?  you  run 
the  wrong  way."  Timorous  answered,  that 
"they  were  going  to  the  city  of  Zion.  and  had 


198  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

got  up  that  difficult  place:  but,""  said  he,  "the 
further  we  go,  the  more  danger  we  meet  with ; 
wherefore  we  turned,  and  are  going  back  again,'' 

"Yes,"  said  Mistrust,  "for  just  before  us 
lie  a  couple  of  lions  in  the  way,  whether  sleep- 
ing or  waking  we  know  not ;  and  we  could  not 
think,  if  we  came  within  reach,  but  they  would 
presently  pull  us  in  pieces."' 

Then  said  Christian,  "You  make  me  afraid; 
but  whither  shall  I  fly  to  be  safe  ?  If  I  go  back 
to  my  own  country,  that  is  prepared  for  fire 
and  brimstone,  and  I  shall  certainly  perish 
there ;  if  I  can  get  to  the  celestial  city,  I  am 
sure  to  be  in  safet}^  there:  I  must  venture. 
To  go  back  is  nothing  but  death:  to  ^l?7lLr ''"'''' 
go  forward  is  fear  of  death,  and  life  everlasting 
beyond  it:  I  will  yet  go  forward."  So  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous  ran  down  the  hill,  and 
Christian  went  on  his  way.  But  thinking  again 
of  what  he  had  heard  from  the  men,  he  felt  in 
his  bosom  for  his  roll,  that  he  might  read  there- 
in and  be  comforted ;  but  he  felt,  and  S^'fj^.'^Sn 
found  it  not.  Then  was  Christian  com"orfed^"  ^/ 
in  great  distress,  and  knew  not  what  to  do; 
for  he  wanted  that  which  used  to  relieve  him, 
and  that  which  should  have  been  his  pass  into 
the  celestial  citv.     Here,  therefore,  he  be^ran 


FINDS    II  [.-    Kol.I..  1'.)'.) 

to  be  iiuieh  |)(M-|)1('X(m1.  and  knew  not  wliat  to  do. 
edlorXr'oir  At  hist  lio  betliouulit  liiiiiself  tliat 
lie  had  slept  in  the  arbor  that  is  on  the  side  of 
the  hill;  and  falling  down  upon  his  knees,  he 
asked  God  forgiveness  for  that  foolish  act,  and 
then  went  back  to  look  for  his  roll.  But  all 
the  way  he  went  l)aek,  who  can  sufficiently  set 
forth  the  sorrow  of  Christian's  heart?  Some- 
times he  sighed,  sometimes  he  wept,  and  often- 
times he  chid  himself  for  being  so  foolish  to 
fall  asleep  in  that  place,  which  was  erected 
only  for  a  little  refreshment  from  his  weariness. 
Thus,  therefore,  he  went  back,  carefully  look- 
ing on  this  side  and  on  that,  all  the  way  as  he 
went,  if  happily  he  might  find  his  roll,  that  had 
been  his  comfort  for  so  many  times  in  his  jour- 
ney. He  went  thus  till  he  came  again  within 
sight  of  the  arbor  where  he  sat  and  slept ;  but 
that  sight  renewed  his  sorrow  the  more,  by 
bringing  again,  even  afresh,  his  evil  of  sleeping 
Christian  be  unto  hls  uiiud.     Rcv.  2  :  4  ;  1  Thcss. 

wai's  his  ioolish 

sleeping  5 .  ^.g.      Thus,    thercforc,    he   noAv 

went  on,  bewailing  his  sinful  sleep,  saying,  "Oh 
wretched  man  that  I  am,  that  I  should  sleej)  in 
the  daytime ;  that  T  should  sleep  in  the  midst 
of  difficulty;  that  I  should  so  indulge  the  flesh 
as  to  use  that  rest  for  ease  to  mv  flesh  which 


200  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  Lord  of  the  hill  hath  erected  only  for  the 
relief  of  the  spirits  of  pilgrims!  How  many 
steps  have  I  taken  in  vain!  Thus  it  happened 
to  Israel;  for  their  sin  they  were  sent. back 
again  by  the  way  of  the  Red  Sea;  and  I  am 
made  to  tread  those  steps  with  sorrow,  which 
I  might  have  trod  with  delight,  had  it  not  been 
for  this  sinful  sleep.  How  far  might  I  have 
been  on  my  way  by  this  time !  I  am  made  to 
tread  those  steps  thrice  over,  which  I  needed 
not  to  have  trod  but  once:  yea,  now  also  I 
am  like  to  be  benighted,  for  the  day  is  almost 
spent.     Oh  that  I  had  not  slept!" 

Now  by  this  time  he  was  come  to  the  arbor 
again,  where  for  a  while  he  sat  down  and  wept; 
but  at  last,  (as  Providence  would   christiamind- 

^  eth       his      roll 

have  it,)  looking  sorrowfully  down  where  he  lost  u. 
under  the  settle,  there  he  espied  his  roll,  the 
which  he  with  trembling  and  haste  catched  up, 
and  put  it  into  his  bosom.  But  who  can  tell 
how  joyful  this  man  was  when  he  had  gotten  his 
roll  again  ?  For  this  roll  was  the  assurance  of 
his  life,  and  acceptance  at  the  desired  haven. 
Therefore  he  laid  it  up  in  his  bosom,  gave 
thanks  to  God  for  directing  his  eye  to  the  place 
where  it  lay,  and  with  joy  and  tears  betook 
himself  again  to  his  journey.     But  Oh,  how 


TJIK   TALACK   U  K  A  T  T  I  FU  [..  2()1 

nimbly  did  lio  pi  iij)  tlie  rest  of  tlie  liill !  Yet 
beroro  he  frot  iij),  tlic  siiii  went  down  upon 
Christian;  and  this  made  him  again  recall  the 
vanity  of  his  sleej)in<2:  to  his  remembrance ;  and 
thus  he  again  began  to  condole  with  himself: 
"Oh  thou  sinful  sleep,  how  for  thy  sake  am  I  like 
to  be  benighted  in  my  Journey  !  I  must  walk 
without  the  sun,  darkness  must  cover  the  path 
of  my  feet,  and  I  must  hear  the  noise  of  the 
doleful  creatures,  because  of  ni}'  sinful  sleep." 
Now  also  he  remembered  the  story  that  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous  told  him  of,  how  the}'  were 
frighted  with  the  sight  of  the  lions.  Then  said 
Christian  to  himself  again,  '"These  beasts  range 
in  the  night  for  their  prey;  and  if  the}'  should 
meet  witli  me  in  the  dark,  how  should  I  shift 
them  ?  how  should  I  escape  being  by  them  torn 
in  pieces?"  Thus  he  went  on  his  wa}'.  But  while 
he  was  bewailing  his  unhappy  miscarriage,  he 
lift  up  his  eyes,  and  behold  there  was  a  very 
stately  palace  before  him,  the  name  of  which 
was  Beautiful,  and  it  stood  by  the  highway-side. 
So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  he  made  haste, 
and  went  forward,  that  if  possible  he  might  get 
lodging  there.  Now  before  he  had*  gone  far, 
he  entered  into  a  very  narrow  passage,  which 
was  about  a  furlong  off  the  porter's  lodge ;  and 


202  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

looking  very  narrowly  before  him  as  he  went, 
he  espied  two  lions  in  the  way.  Now,  thonght 
he,  I  see  the  dangers  that  Mistrust  and  Tim- 
orous were  driven  back  by.  (The  lions  were 
chained,  but  he  saw  not  the  chains.)  Then  he 
was  afraid,  and  thought  also  himself  to  go  back 
after  them ;  for  he  thought  nothing  but  death 
was  before  him.  But  the  porter  at  the  lodge, 
whose  name  is  Watchful,  perceiving  that  Chris- 
tian made  a  halt,  as  if  he  would  go  back,  cried 
unto  him,  saying,  ' '  Is  thy  strength  so  small  ? 
Mark  4  :  40.  Fear  not  the  lions,  for  they  are 
chained,  and  are  placed  there  for  trial  of  faith 
where  it  is,  and  for  discovery  of  those  that 
have  none :  keep  in  the  midst  of  the  path,  and 
no  hurt  shall  come  unto  thee,'' 

Then  I  saw  that  he  went  on,  trembling  for 
fear  of  the  lions,  but  taking  good  heed  to  the 
directions  of  the  porter;  he  heard  them  roar, 
but  they  did  him  no  harm.  Then  he  clapped 
his  hands,  and  went  on  till  he  came  and  stood 
before  the  gate  where  the  porter  was.  Then 
said  Christian  to  the  porter,  "Sir,  what  house 
is  this  ?  and  may  I  lodge  here  to-night  ?"  The 
porter  answered,  "This  house  was  built  by  the 
Lord  of  the  hill,  and  he  built  it  for  the  relief 
and  security  of  pilgrims.''      The  porter  also 


TALK    WITH   TIIL   roilTKI!.  1>UH 

asked   whence    he   was.    and   wliither  lie   was 
going. 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  ciiy  of  Destruc- 
tion, and  am  going  to  Mount  Zion ;  but  because 
the  sun  is  now"  set,  I  desire,  if  I  may,  to  lodge 
here  to-night. 

Port.  What  is  your  name  ? 

Chr.  My  name  is  now  Christian,  but  my 
name  at  the  first  was  Graceless:  I  came  of  the 
race  of  Japheth,  whom  God  will  persuade  to 
dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem.     Gen.  9  :  27. 

Port.  But  how  doth  it  happen  that  you 
come  so  late  ?     The  sun  is  set. 

Chr.  I  had  been  here  sooner,  but  that, 
wretched  man  that  I  am,  I  slept  in  the  arbor 
that  stands  on  the  hill-side!  Nay,  I  had,  not- 
withstanding that,  been  here  much  sooner,  but 
that  in  my  sleep  I  lost  ray  evidence,  and  came 
without  it  to  the  brow  of  the  hill;  and  then 
feeling  for  it,  and  not  finding  it,  I  w^as  forced 
with  sorrow  of  heart  to  go  back  to  the  place 
where  I  slept  my  sleep,  where  I  found  it ;  and 
now  I  am  come. 

Port.  Well,  I  will  call  out  one  of  the  vir- 
gins of  this  place,  who  will  if  she  likes  your 
talk,  bring  you  in  to  the  rest  of  the  family, 
accordinpf  to  the  rules  of  the  house. 


204  PILGRIM'S  TROGRESS. 

So  Watchful  the  porter  rang  a  bell,  at  the 
sound  of  which  came  out  of  the  door  of  the 
house  a  grave  and  beautiful  damsel  named  Dis- 
cretion, and  asked  why  she  was  called. 

The  porter  answered,  "This  man  is  on  a 
journey  from  the  city  of  Destruction  to  Mount 
Zion ;  but  being  weary  and  benighted,  he  asked 
me  if  he  might  lodge  here  to-night :  so  I  told 
him  I  would  call  for  thee,  who,  after  discourse 
had  with  him,  mayest  do  as  seemeth  thee  good, 
even  according  to  the  law  of  the  house." 

Then  she  asked  him  whence  he  was,  and 
whither  he  was  going;  and  he  told  her.  She 
asked  him  also  how  he  got  into  the  way ;  and 
he  told  her.  Then  she  asked  him  what  he  had 
seen  and  met  Avith  in  the  way,  and  he  told  her. 
And  at  last  she  asked  his  name.  So  he  said, 
"It  is  Christian ;  and  I  have  so  much  the  more 
a  desire  to  lodge  here  to-night,  because,  by 
what  I  perceive,  this  place  was  built  by  the 
Lord  of  the  hill  for  the  relief  and  security  of 
pilgrims."  So  she  smiled,  but  the  water  stood 
in  her  ej^es ;  and  after  a  little  pause  she  said, 
"  I  will  call  forth  two  or  three  more  of  the 
family."  So  she  ran  to  the  door,  and  called 
out  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity,  who,  after 
a  little  more  discourse  with  him,  had  him  into 


TALK   WITH   PIETY.  205 

the  family;  and  many  of  thorn  moctinc:  liim  at 
the  thresljohl  of  the  house,  said,  "Come  in, 
thou  blessed  of  the  Lord;  this  house  was  built 
by  the  Lord  of  the  hill  on  purpose  to  entertain 
sueh  })ils2:rinis  in.''  Then  he  bowed  his  head, 
and  followed  them  into  the  house.  80  Avhen 
he  was  come  in  and  sat  down,  the}'  gave  him 
something  to  drink,  and  consented  together 
that,  until  su})per  was  ready,  some  of  them 
should  have  some  particular  discourse  vvith 
Christian,  for  the  best  improvement  of  time: 
and  they  api)ointed  Piety,  Prudence,  and  Char- 
ity to  discourse  with  him  :  and  thus  they  be- 
gan. 

Piety.  Come,  good  Christian,  since  we  have 
Ivuh'him""'^'''  been  so  loving  to  you  as  to  receive 
you  into  our  house  this  night,  let  us,  if  perhaps 
we  may  better  ourselves  thereby,  talk  with 
you  of  all  things  that  have  happened  to  you  in 
your  pilgrimage. 

CfiR.  With  a  very  good  will;  and  I  am 
glad  that  you  are  so  well  disposed. 

Piety,  What  moved  3'ou  at  first  to  betake 
yourself  to  a  pilgrim's  life  ? 
^!^.Vlril?!'flTf        C"ii-   I  ^vas   driven   out  of  mv 

« as  (irmii   out  *- 

olhiaowncoun  ,•  j.  -u  iiri  i 

try.  native  country  by  a  dreadlul  sound 

that  was  in  mine  ears ;  to  wit,  that  unavoida- 


20G  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ble  destruction  did  attend  me,  if  I  abode  in 
that  place  where  I  was. 

Piety.  But  how  did  it  happen  that  you 
came  out  of  your  country  this  way  ? 

Chr.  It  was  as  tlod  woukl  have  it;  for 
when  I  was  under  the  fears  of  destruction,  I 
did  not  know  whither  to  o;o ;  but  by     now  he  got 

into  the  way  to 

chance  there  came  a  man,  even  to  ^''°n 
me,  as  I  was  trembling  and  weeping,  whose 
name  is  Evangelist,  and  he  directed  me  to  the 
Wicket-gate,  which  else  I  should  never  have 
found,  and  so  set  me  into  the  way  that  hath 
led  me  directly  to  this  house. 

Piety.  But  did  you  not  come  by  the  house 
of  the  Interpreter  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there, 
the  remembrance  of  which  will  stick    a  rehearsal  of 

what  he  saw  in 

by  me  as  long  as  I  live,  especially  ^''^  ''"^y- 
three  things  :  to  wit,  hoAV  Christ,  in  despite 
of  Satan,  maintains  his  work  of  grace  in  the 
heart ;  how  the  man  had  sinned  himself  quite 
out  of  hopes  of  God's  mercy;  and  also  the 
dream  of  him  that  thought  in  his  sleep  the  day 
of  judgment  was  come. 

Piety.  Why,  did  you  hear  him  tell  his 
dream  ? 

CiiR.  Yes,   and  a  dreadful  one  it  was,   I 


TALK    WITH    rii:TY.  207 

thought;  it  inatle  my  heai't  ache  as  ho  was  toll- 
ing of  it,  but  yot  I  am  glad  I  lioanl  it. 

Piety.  Was  this  all  you  saw  at  tho  house 
of  tho  Iutor})rotor  ? 

Ciiu.  Xo  ;  ho  took  mo,  and  had  mo  whore 
ho  showed  mo  a  stately  palace,  and  how  tho 
j)00ple  wore  clad  in  gold  that  wore  in  it  ;  and 
how  there  came  a  venturous  num,  and  cut  his 
way  through  tho  armed  men  that  stood  in  tho 
tloor  to  keep  him  out ;  and  how  ho  was  l)id  to 
come  in,  and  win  eternal  glory,  Metliought 
those  things  did  ravish  my  heart.  I  would 
have  stayed  at  that  good  man's  house  a  twelve- 
month, but  that  I  knew  I  had  farther  to  go. 

Piety.  And  what  saw  you  else  in  the  way? 

Chr.  Saw!  why,  I  wont  but  a  little  farther, 
and  I  saw  One,  as  I  thought  in  my  mind,  hang 
bleeding  u})on  a  tree ;  and  the  very  sight  of  him 
made  my  burden  fall  off  my,  back ;  for  I  groaned 
under  a  very  lioav}^  burden,  but  then  it  fell 
down  from  off  me.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to  me, 
for  I  never  saw  such  a  thing  before  :  yea,  and 
while  I  stood  looking  uj).  (for  then  I  could  nofc 
forbear  looking.)  three  Shining  Ones  came  to 
mo.  One  of  them  testiliod  that  my  sins  were 
forgiven  mo;  another  strij)pod  me  of  my  rags, 
and  gave  me  this  broidored  coat  which  you  see ; 


208  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  the  third  set  the  mark  which  you  see  in  my 
forehead,  and  gave  me  this  sealed  roll.  And 
with  that  he  plucked  it  out  of  his  bosom. 

Piety.  But  you  saw  more  than  this,  did 
you  not  ? 

Chr.  The  things  that  I  have  told  you  were 
the  best:  yet  some  other  matters  I  saw,  as, 
namely,  I  savf  three  men.  Simple,  Sloth,  and 
Presumption,  lie  asleep  a  little  out  of  the  way, 
as  I  came,  with  irons  upon  their  heels ;  but  do 
you  think  I  could  awake  them?  I  also  saw 
Formality  and  Hj^pocrisy  come  tumbling  over 
the  wall,  to  go,  as  they  pretended,  to  Zion; 
but  they  were  quickly  lost,  even  as  I  myself 
did  tell  them,  but  they  would  not  believe.  But 
above  all,  I  found  it  hard  work  to  get  up  this 
hill,  and  as  hard  to  come  by  the  lions'  mouths; 
and  truly,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  good  man 
the  porter,  that  stands  at  the  gate,  I  do  not 
know  but  that,  after  all,  I  might  have  gone  back 
again ;  but  I  thank  God  I  am  here,  and  thank 
you  for  receiving  me. 

Then  Prudence  thought  good  to  ask  him  a 
few  questions,  and  desired  his  answer  to  them. 

PrU.     Do     you     not     think     some-       Prudence  dis- 
courses       with 

times  of  the  country  from  whence  ^™- 
you  came  ? 


TALK   WITH   I'RUDEXCE.  200 

Ciiu.  Yea,   l)ut  witli   iinicli   sliaiiie  and  dc- 

Christians  tCStatiolL     Tl'Ulv,  If  I  luul  bcCll  mind- 
thoughts  of  his 
native  country,    f^jj    ^f    {\y^l    COUIltry    ffOni    wllCnCC    I 

canic  out,  I  miglit  liavc  had  opportunity'  to 
Lave  returned ;  but  now  I  desire  a  better  coun- 
try, that  is,  a  heavenly  one.     Heb.  11  :  15,  IG. 

Pru.  Do  3'Ou  not  yet  bear  away  with  you 
some  of  the  tilings  that  then  you  wore  conver- 
sant withal  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  greatl}'  against  my  will ; 
especially  my  inward  and  carnal  cogitations, 
with  which  all  my  countrymen,  as  well  as  my- 
self, were  delighted.  But  now  all  those  things 
choice''"*""" '  are  my  grief;  and  might  I  but  choose 
mine  own  things,  I  would  choose  never  to  think 
of  those  things  niore:  but  when  I  would  be  a 
doing  that  which  is  best,  that  which  is  worst  is 
with  me.     Rom.  7:15,  21. 

Pru.  Do  you  not  find  sometimes  as  if  those 
things  were  vanquished,  which  at  other  times 
are  your  perplexity  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom ;  but  they 
gouien'^houre"  *  ^rc  to  uic  goldcu  liours  in  which  such 
things  happen  to  me. 

Pru.  Can  you  remember  by  what  means 
you  find  your  annoyances  at  times  as  if  they 
were  vanquished  ? 


210  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

Chr.  Yes ;  when  I  think  what  I  saw  at  the 
cross,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when  I  ^,^^^^1  ^;f;'|^ 
look  upon  my  broidered  coat,  that  ?fptions. 
will  do  it ;  and  when  I  look  into  the  roll  that  I 
carry  in  my  bosom,  that  will  do  it;  and  when 
my  thoughts  wax  warm  about  whither  I  am 
going,  that  will  do  it. 

Pru.  And  Avhat  is  it  that  makes  jon  so 
desirous  to  go  to  Mount  Zion  ? 

Chr.  Why,  there  I  hope  to  see  Him  alive 
that  did  hano-  dead  on  the  cross ;  and     why  chm 

°  '  tian    would    be 

there  I  hope  to  be  rid  of  all  those  at  Mount  zion. 

things  that  to  this  day  are  in  me  an  annoyance 

to  me:  there  they  say  there  is  no  death,  Isa. 

25  :  8 ;  Eev.  21:4;  and  there  I  shall  dwell  with 

such  company  as  I  like  best.     For,  to  tell  you 

the  truth,  I  love  Him  because  I  was  by  him 

eased  of  my  burden;  and  I  am  weary  of  my 

inward  sickness.    I  would  fain  be  where  I  shall 

die  no  more,  and  with  the  company  that  shall 

continually  cry,  Iloli/,  hoi//,  holy. 

Then  said  Charity  to  Christian,     charity  dis- 
courses    with 

"Have   you   a  family;   are   you   a'"'"  / 

married  man  ?" 

Chr.  I  have  a  wife  and  four  small  children. 

Char.  And  why  did  you  not  bring  them 
alonoj  with  you  ? 


TALK    WITH   CilAKlTV.  211 

Tlioii  Cliristiaii  wept,    and   said,  "Oil.  how 

Christians  love  willillgiv  WOUUl   I   luiVO   (loUO    it!     l)Ut 

to  his  wife  and  '' 

children.  tllCY  WCl'C  ixU  of  thcill  UttCl'lv  aVCl'SC 

to  my  <ioiiia:  on  ])ilgTimage." 

.  CiiAR.  But  you  sliould  have  talked  to  them, 
and  have  endeavored  to  show  them  the  danger 
of  staying  behind. 

Chr.  So  I  did:  and  told  them  also  what 
God  had  shown  to  me  of  the  destruetion  of  our 
city ;  but  I  seemed  to  them  as  one  that  mocked, 
and  they  believed  me  not.     Gen.  10  :  14. 

Char.  And  did  you  pray  to  God  that  he 
would  bless  your  counsel  to  them  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  affection; 
for  you  must  think  that  my  wife  and  poor  chil- 
dren were  very  dear  to  me. 

Char.  But  did  3'ou  tell  them  of  your  own 
sorrow,  and  fear  of  destruction?  for  I  sup- 
pose that  destruction  was  visible  enough  to 
you. 

Chr.  Yes,  over  and  ever  and  over.    They 

Christian's  might  also  see  my  fears  in  my  coun- 

fearotperishing  .  i       i    ^    • 

might  be  read  in  teuancc,  m  mv  tcars,  and  also  m  my 

his  very  counte-  '  ./  >  ./ 

nance.  trcmbliug  uudcr  the  apprehension  of 

the  judgment  that  did  hang  over  our  heads; 
but  all  was  not  sufficient  to  prevail  with  them 
to  come  with  me. 


212  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Char.  But  what  could  they  say  for  them- 
selves, why  they  came  not? 

Chr.  Why,  my  wife  was  afraid  of  losing 
this  world,  and  my  children  were  Jg^^^vlL'^^nJ 
given  to  the  foolish  delights  of  youth ;  f  Sl'^"' 
so,  what  by  one  thing,  and  what  by  another, 
they  left  me  to  wander  in  this  manner  alone. 

Char.  But  did  you  not,  with  your  vain  life, 
damp  all  that  you,  by  words,  used  by  Avay  of 
persuasion  to  bring  them  away  with  you  ? 

Chr.  Indeed,  I  cannot  commend  my  life, 
for  I  am  conscious  to  myself  of  many  failings 
therein.  I  knoAv  also,  that  a  man,  by  his  con- 
versation, may  soon  overthrow  what,  by  argu- 
ment or  persuasion,  he  doth  labor  to  fasten 
upon  others  for  their  good.  Yet  this  I  can 
say,  I  was  very  wary  of  giving  them  occasion, 
by  any  unseemly  action,   to  make       christians 

',  •!        •  good    conversa- 

them  averse  to  going  on  pilgrimage.  ««"  i>^efore^h|s 
Yea,  for  this  very  thing,  they  would  '^'""' 
tell  me  I  was  too  precise,  and  that  I  denied 
myself  of  things  (for  their  sakes)  in  which  they 
saw  no  evil.  Nay,  I  think  I  may  say,  that  if 
what  they  saw  in  me  did  hinder  them,  it  was 
my  great  tenderness  in  sinning  against  God,  or 
of  doing  any  wrong  to  my  neighbor. 

Char.  Indeed,  Cain  hated  his  brother,  be- 


TAi,K  AT  sri'i'i:i:.  2i:i 

caiKsc  his  own  woi-ks  were  v\i\,  and  his  brother's 
Christian  clear  rliiliteous,  1  Johu  3  :12:  and  il 


ol'tlu'ir  blood, il' 


liv 


theyperLsh.  ^yjj^^  j^,,,|  ehlhlroii  have  been  oflended 
with  thee  for  this,  Wwy  thereby  show  them- 
selves to  be  inqdaeable  to  good ;  thou  hast  de- 
livered thy  soul  from  their  blood.  Ezek.  3:19. 
Now  I  saAV  in  my  dream,  that  thus  they 
sat  talking  together  until  supper  was  ready.  So 
when  they  had  made  ready,  they  sat  down  to 
What  Chris  meat.     Xow  the  table  was  furnished 

tian  liatl  tor  his 

8ui.iH;r.  ^yitii  f^t  things,  and  with  wine  thatwas 

well  refined ;  and  all  their  talk  at  the  table  was 
suJSr  ^'^^  "'  about  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  as,  name- 
ly, about  what  he  had  done,  and  wherefore  he 
did  what  he  did,  and  why  he  had  builded  that 
house ;  and  by  what  they  said,  I  perceived  that 
he  had  been  a  great  warrior,  and  had  fought 
with  and  slain  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, 
Heb.  2:14,  15 ;  but  not  without  great  danger 
to  himself,  which  made  me  love  him  the  more. 
For,  as  they  said,  and  as  I  believe,  said 
Christian,  he  did  it  with  the  loss  of  much  blood. 
But  that  which  put  the  glory  of  grace  into  all 
he  did,  was,  that  he  did  it  out  of  pure  love  to 
his  country.  And  besides,  there  were  some  of 
them  of  the  household  that  said  they  had  been 
and  spoke  with  him  since  he  did  die  on  the 


214  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

cross ;  and  they  liave  attested  that  they  had  it 
from  his  own  lips,  that  lie  is  such  a  lover  of 
poor  pilgrims,  that  the  like  is  not  to  be  found 
from  the  east  to  the  west.  They,  moreover, 
gave  an  instance  of  what  they  aflBrmed;  and 
that  was,  he  had  stripped  himself  of  his  glory 
that  he  might  do  this  for  the  poor;  and  that 
they  heard  him  say  and  affirm,  that  he  would 
not  dwell  in  the  mountain  of  Zion  alone.  They 
said,  moreover,  that  he  had  made  many  pil- 
grims princes,  though  bv  nature  thev    Christ  makes 

*      princes  of  beg- 

were  beggars  born,  and  their  origi-  s^''^- 

nal  had  been  the  dunghill.     1  Sam.  2:8;  Psa. 

113:7. 

Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at 
night ;  and  after  they  had  committed  themselves 
to  their  Lord  for  protection,  they  betook  them- 
selves to  rest.  The  pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large 
upper  chamber,  whose  window  opened  towards 
the  sun-rising.  The  name  of  the  c'Ser""''''" 
chamber  was  Peace,  where  he  slept  till  break 
of  day,  and  then  he  awoke  and  sang, 

"Where  am  I  now?     Is  this  the  love  and  care 
Of  Jesns,  for  the  men  that  pilgrims  are, 
Thus  to  provide  that  I  should  be  forgiven, 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  heaven!" 

So  in  the  morning  they  all  got  up ;  and,  after 
some  more   discourse,  thev  told  him   that  he 


INTERESTTXC    RKCORDP.  21;') 

should  not  depart  till  tlicv  had  shown  him  the 
info'^'thc^n.'Tv''  I'i^i'ities  of  that  place.    And  lirst  they 

tind  what  licsuw  iii-         'xji  ii  i  ii 

there.  had  hini  into  the  study,  where  they 

bhowed  him  records  of  the  «i-rcatest  anti(iuity; 
ill  which,  as  I  reiueiiil)er  my  dream,  they  showed 
him  the  pediu'ree  of  the  Lord  of  the  lull,  that 
Jie  was  the  J^on  of  the  Ancient  of  days,  and 
came  by  eternal  generation.  Here  also  was 
more  fully  recorded  the  acts  that  he  had  done, 
and  the  names  of  many  hundreds  that  he  had 
taken  into  his  service ;  and  how  he  had  i)laced 
them  in  such  habitations,  that  could  neither  by 
length  of  days,  nor  decays  of  nature,  be  dis- 
solved. 

Then  they  read  to  him  some  of  the  worthy 
acts  that  some  of  his  servants  had  done ;  as  how 
they  had  subdued  kingdoms,,  wrought  righteous- 
ness, obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of 
lions,  quenched  the  violence  of  iire,  escaped  the 
edge  of  the  sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made 
strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  and  turned  to 
flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens.    Ileb.  11:33,  34. 

Then  they  read  again  another  part  of  the 
records  of  the  house,  where  it  was  shown  how 
willing  their  Lord  was  to  receive  into  his  favor 
any,  even  any,  though  they  in  time  past  had 
offered  great  affronts  to  his  person  and  proceed- 


21G  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ings.  Here  also  were  several  other  histories 
of  many  other  famous  things,  of  all  which  Chris- 
tian had  a  Adew ;  as  of  things  both  ancient  and 
modern,  together  Avith  prophecies  and  predic- 
tions of  things  that  have  their  certain  accom- 
plishment, both  to  the  dread  and  amazement  of 
enemies,  and  the  comfort  and  solace  of  pilgrims. 

The  next  day  they  took  him,  and  had  him 
into  the  armory,  where  they  showed  intothfa?mor*^ 
him  all  manner  of  furniture  which  their  Lord 
had  provided  for  pilgrims,  as  sword,  shield, 
helmet,  breastplate,  all-prayer,  and  shoes  that 
would  not  wear  out.  And  there  was  here 
enough  of  this  to  harness  out  as  many  men  for 
the  service  of  their  Lord  as  there  be  stars  in 
the  heaven  for  multitude. 

They  also  showed  him  some  of  the  engines 
with  which  some  of  his  servants  had  done  won- 
derful  things.      They  showed  him     christian  is 

made  to  see  an- 

Moses'  rod;  the  hammer  and  nail  <='<^"*^'^''»s*- 
with  which  Jael  slew  Sisera;  the  pitchers, 
trumpets,  and  lamps  too,  with  which  Gideon 
put  to  flight  the  armies  of  Midian.  Then  they 
showed  him  the  ox-goad  wherewith  Shamgar 
slew  six  hundred  men.  They  showed  him 
also  the  jawbone  with  which  Samson  did  such 
mighty  feats.     They  showed  him,  moreover. 


THE  WONDERS  SHOWN.  *J1T 

{]\v  sliim-  aiul  stone  \villi  wliicli  I);ivi(l  sk'W 
(foliath  of  (Jath;  and  the  sword  also  with 
wliich  their  Lord  will  kill  the  man  of  sin,  in 
the  day  that  he  shall  i-ise  up  to  the  prey. 
They  showed  him  besides  many  exeellent 
thing's,  with  which  Christian  was  much  de- 
lighted. This  done,  they  went  to  their  rest 
again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  on  the  mor- 
row he  got  n})  to  go  forward,  ])ut  they  desired 
him  to  stay  till  the  next  day  also;  and  then, 
said  the}',  wc  will,  if  the  day  be  clear,  show 
3'ou  the  Delectable  mountains;  which,  they 
said,  would  j-et  farther  add  to  his  comfort, 
because  they  were  nearer  the  desired  haven 
than  the  place  where  at  present  he  was  ;  so  he 
consented  and  staj^ed.  AVhen  the  morning 
was  up,  they  had  him  to  the  toj)  of  the  house. 
Christian  show-  aud  bid  him  look  south.     So  he  did, 

cd  the  Delecta- 
ble mountains,    and  behold,  at  a  great  distance,  he 

saw  a  most  pleasant  mountainous  country, 
beautified  with  woods,  vineyards,  fruits  of  all 
sorts,  flowers  also,  with  springs  and  fountains, 
very  delecta])le  to  behold.  Isa.  33:16,  17. 
Then  he  asked  the  name  of  the  country.  They 
said  it  was  Immanuers  land ;  and  it  is  as  com- 
mon, said  they,  as  this  hill  is,  to  and  for  all 

PJ.  Pro-  1  0 


218  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  pilgrims.  And  Avhen  thou  comest  there, 
from  thence  thou  mayest  see  to  the  gate  of  the 
celestial  city,  as  the  shepherds  that  live  there 
will  make  appear. 

Now  he  bethought  himself  of  jo^vard!"'' ""*' 
setting  forward,  and  they  were  willing  he 
should.  But  first,  said  they,  let  us  go  again 
into  the  armor3\  So  they  did ;  and  when  he 
came  there,  they  harnessed  him  from  head  to 
foot  with  what  was  of  proof,  lest  perhaps  he 
should  meet  with  assaults  in  the  way.  He 
being  therefore  thus  accoutred,  walked  out 
with  his  friends  to  the  gate ;  and  avvay  armer^' 
there  he  asked  the  porter  if  he  saw  any  pilgrim 
pass  by.     Then  the  porter  answered,  "  Yes." 

"Pray,  did  you  know  him  ?''  said  Christian. 

Port.  I  asked  his  nam^,  and  he  told  me  it 
was  Faithful. 

"Oh,"  said  Christian,  "I  know  him;  he  i:^ 
my  townsman,  my  near  neighbor;  he  comes 
from  the  place  where  I  was  born.  How  far 
do  you  think  he  may  be  before  ?" 

Port.  He  is  got  by  this  time  below  the  hill. 

"Well,"  said  Christian,  "good  porter,  the 
Lord  be  with  thee,  and  add  to  all  aJ?d°'^,fe^;p'S 
thy  blessings  much  increase  for  the  fng!" 
kindness  that  thou  hast  showed  me." 


greet    at    part- 


PURSUES  HIS  JOURNEY.  219 


THE  FOUllTH  STAGE. 

Thex  he  began  to  go  forward ;  but  Dis- 
cretion, Piety,  Charity,  and  Prudence  would 
accompany  him  down  to  the  foot  of  the  hill. 
So  they  went  on  together,  reiterating  their 
former  discourses,  till  they  came  to  go  down 
the  hill.  Then  said  Christian,  "As  it  was 
difficult  coming  up,  so,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  it 
is  dangerous  going  down."  "Yes,"'  said  Pru- 
dence, "so  it  is;  for  it  is  a  hard  matter  for  a 
man  to  go  down  into  the  valley  of  Ilumilia- 
iiumui^/llmr'' tion,  as  thou  art  now,  and  to  catch 
no  slip  l)y  the  way;  therefore,'*  said  they,  "we 
are  come  out  to  accomj)any  thee  down  the  hill." 
So  he  began  to  go  down,  but  very  warily ;  yd 
he  caught  a  slip  or  two. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  good 
companions,  when  Christian  was  got  down  to 
the  bottom  of  the  hill,  gave  him  a  loaf  of  bread, 
a  bottle  of  wine,  and  a  cluster  of  raisins;  and 
then  he  went  on  his  way. 

"  Wliile  Christian  is  among  his  godly  friends, 
Their  golden  mouths  make  him  sufficient  mends 
For  all  his  griefs  ;  and  when  they  let  him  go, 
He 's  clad  with  northern  steel  from  top  to  toe." 


220  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

But  now,  ill  this  valley  of  Humiliation, 
poor  Christian  was  hard  put  to  it;  for  he  had 
gone  but  a  little  Avay  before  he  espied  a  foul 
fiend  coming  over  the  field  to  meet  him  :  his 
name  is  ApoUyon.  Then  drd  Christian  begin 
to  be  afraid,  and  to  cast  in  his  mind  Avhether 
to  go  back,  or  to  stand  his  ground.  But  he 
considered,  again,  that  he  had  no  armor  for  his 
back,  and  therefore  thought  that  to    christian  has 

no  armor  for  his 

turn  the  back  to  him  might  give  him  ^'^'^'^ 
greater  advantage  with  ease  to  pierce  him  with 
his  darts;  therefore  he  resolved  to  venture 
and  stand  his  ground:  "for,"  thought  he,  "had 
I  no  more  in  mine  eye  than  the  saving  of  my 
life,  it  would  be  the  best  way  to  stand." 

So  he  went  on,  and  ApoUyon  met  him. 
Now  the  monster  was  hideous  to  behold:  he 
was  clothed  with  scales  like  a  fish,  and  they 
are  his  pride;  he  had  wings  like  a  dragon,  and 
feet  like  a  bear,  and  out  of  his  belly  came  fire 
and  smoke,  and  his  mouth  was  as  the  mouth  of 
a  lion.  When  he  was  come  up  to  Christian, 
he  beheld  him  with  a  disdainful  countenance, 
and  thus  began  to  question  him. 

ApOL.     Whence     came     you,     and       Discourse  be- 
tween Christian 

whither  are  you  bound  ?  and  Aponyon. 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  city  of  Destruc- 


AI'ULI.VUNiS   DISCOURSE.  221 

tion,  ^hich  is  tlie  i)laec  of  all  evil,  and  I  am 
going  to  the  city  of  Zion. 

Apol.  By  this  I  i)erceive  that  thou  art  one 
,of  my  subjects;  for  all  that  country  is  mine, 
and  I  am  the  prince  and  god  of  it.  How  is  it, 
then,  that  thou  hast  run  away  from  thy  king? 
Were  it  not  that  I  hope  thou  mayest  do  me 
more  service,  I  would  strike  thee  now  at  one 
blow  to  the  ground. 

Chr.  I  was  indeed  born  in  your  dominions, 
but  your  service  was  hard,  and  your  wages  such 
as  a  man  could  not  live  on;  for  the  wages  of 
sin  is  death,  Rom.  6  :  23  ;  therefore,  when  I  was 
come  to  years,  I  did  as  other  considerate  persons 
do,  look  out  if  perhaps  I  might  mend  myself. 

Apol.  There  is  no  prince  that  will  thus 
lightly  lose  his  subjects,  neither  will  I  as  yet 
flatter>^°"^°°  ^  losc  thcc ;  but  slncc  thou  complainest 
of  thy  service  and  wages,  be  content  to  go 
back,  and  what  our  country  will  afford  T  do 
here  promise  to  give  thee. 

Chr.  But  I  have  let  myself  to  another, 
even  to  the  King  of  princes ;  and  how  can  I 
with  fairness  go  back  with  thee  ? 
f  iTri^t'^^'uliV/  Apol.  Thou  hast  done  in  this 
valued  by  Apol-  ^^(.^.^rding  to  the  proverb,  "changed 
a  bad  for  a  worse ;"  but  it  is  ordinary  for  those 


222  PILGRIM'S  TROGRESS. 

that  have  professed  themselves  his  servants, 
after  a  while  to  give  him  the  slip,  and  return 
again  to  me.  Do  thou  so  too,  and  all  shall  be 
well. 

Chr.  I  have  given  him  my  faith,  and  sworn 
my  allegiance  to  him ;  how  then  can  I  go  back 
from  this,  and  not  be  hanged  as  a  traitor  ? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  the  same  by  me,  and  yet 
I  am  willing  to  pass  by  all,  if  now  thou  wilt 
yet  turn  again  and  go  back. 

Chr.  What  I  promised  thee  was  in  my 
nonage  ;  and  besides,  I  count  that  the  Prince, 
under  whose  banner  I  now  stand,  is  able  to 
absolve  me,  yea,  and  to  pardon  also  what  I 
did  as  to  my  compliance  with  thee.  And  be- 
sider,  0  thou  destroying  Apollyon,  to  speak 
truth,  I  like  his  service,  his  wages,  his  ser- 
vants, his  government,  his  company,  and  coun- 
try, better  than  thine ;  therefore  leave  off  to 
persuade  me  farther  :  I  am  his  servant,  and 
I  will  follow  him. 

Apol.  Consider  again,  when  thou        Apoiiyon 

pleads  the  griev- 

art  in  cool  blood,  what  thou  art  like  ^^'^istian?    "o 

.  i         -ii       •         ii  J.1      i.     Ji  dissuade  Chris- 

to  meet  with  m  the  wav  that  thou  tian  irom  per 

*^  sisting     in     hig 

goest.     Thou  knowest  that  for.  the  ^'"'y- 
most  part  his  servants  come  to  an  ill  end,  be- 
cause they  are  transgressors  against  me  and 


AI'OLLVUN'S   DISCOURSE.  223 

my  ways.  How  many  of  them  have  becu  put 
to  sliameful  deatlis!  And  besides,  tliou  eouiit- 
est  his  service  better  than  mine;  whereas  he 
never  yet  came  from  the  i>lcfce  where  he  is,  to 
deliver  any  that  served  him  out  of  their  ene- 
mies' liands;  but  as  for  me,  how  many  times, 
as  all  the  world  very  well  knows,  have  I  deliv- 
ered, either  l)y  power  or  fraud,  those  that  have 
faithfully  served  me,  from  him  and  his,  though 
taken  by  them.     And  so  will  I  deliver  thee. 

Chr.  Ilis  forbearing  at  present  to  deliver 
them,  is  on  purpose  to  try  their  love,  whether 
they  will  cleave  to  him  to  the  end ;  and  as  for 
the  ill  end  thou  sayest  the}'  come  to,  that  is 
most  glorious  in  their  account.  For,  for  pres- 
ent deliverance,  they  do  not  much  expect  it; 
for  they  stay  for  their  glory;  and  then  they 
shall  have  it,  when  their  Prince  comes  in  his 
and  the  glory  of  the  angels. 

Apol.  Thou  hast  already  been  unfaithful 
in  thy  service  to  him ;  and  how  dost  thou  think 
to  receive  wages  of  him  ? 

Cur.  AVherein,  0  Apollyon,  have  I  been 
imfaithful  to  him  ? 
chriinans^'^in"        ApoL.   Tliou  didst  faiut  at  first 

firmitios against  ^^^^^j^^^,    ^^^^      ^^.j^^^^^    ^j^^^^^   ^^,^^^    ^^^^^^^ 

choked  in  the  gulf  of  Despond.     Thou  didst 


224  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

attempt  wrong  ways  to  be  rid  of  thy  burden, 
whereas  thou  shouldst  have  stayed  till  thy 
Prince  had  taken  it  off.  Thou  didst  sinfully 
sleep,  and  lose  thy  choice  things.  Thou  wast 
almost  persuaded  also  to  go  back  at  the  sight 
of  the  lions.  And  when  thou  talkest  of  thy 
journey,  and  of  what  thou  hast  seen  and  heard, 
thou  art  inwardly  desirous  of  vainglory  in  all 
that  thou  sayest  or  doest. 

Chr.  All  this  is  true,  and  much  more  which 
thou  hast  left  out ;  but  the  Prince  whom  I  serve 
and  honor  is  merciful,  and  ready  to  forgive. 
But  besides,  these  infirmities  possessed  me  in 
thy  country,  for  there  I  sucked  them  in,  and  I 
have  groaned  under  them,  been  sorry  for  them, 
and  have  obtained  pardon  of  my  Prince. 

Then  Apollyon  broke  out  into  a  grievous 
ra2;e,   saying,   "I  am  an  enemy  to    Aponyon,  in 

'^    '  *^       ^'  '^  rage,  falls  upon 

this  Prince ;  I  hate  his  person,  his  ^uristian. 
laws,  and  people :  I  am  come  out  on  purpose 
to  withstand  thee." 

Chr.  Apollyon,  beware  what  you  do,  for  1 
am  in  the  King's  highway,  the  way  of  holiness ; 
therefore  take  heed  to  j^ourself. 

Then  Apollyon  straddled  quite  over  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  way,  and  said,  "I  am 
void  of  fear  in  this  matter.     Prepare  thyself 


CONFLICT  WITH   AI'OLLYON.  225 

to  (lie;  for  I  swear  l)y  my  inrcnuil  dcii,  that 
thou  slialt  go  no  iurtlier:  licrc  will  1  spill  thy 
soul."'  And  with  that  he  tlirew  a  llaniiii,<;-  dart 
at  his  l)reast;  hut  Christian  had  a  shield  in  his 
hand,  with  which  he  cauuht  it,  and  so  i)revented 
the  danger  of  that. 

Then  did  Christian  draw,  for  he  saw  it  was 
time  to  bestir  him ;  and  Ajjollyon  as  fast  made 
at  him,  throwing  darts  as  thick  as  hail;  b}'  the 
which,  notwithstanding  all  that  Christian  could 

Christian  do   to  avold   it,  Apollyon  wounded 

wounded  in  liis    ,.         .,.,  ii-i  i  iz-j 

understandin-,  him  HI  Jus  licad,  his  JKiiid,  aud  loot. 

faith,  and  con- 

versation.  rj^j^jg  ^^^^^t^^  Christlau  glvc  a  Httlc 
back;  Apollyon  therefore  followed  his  work 
amain,  and  Christian  again  took  courage,  and 
resisted  as  manfully  as  he  could.  This  sore 
combat  lasted  for  above  half  a  day,  even  till 
Christian  was  almost  quite  spent ;  for  you  must 
kflow,  that  Christian,  by  reason  of  his  wounds, 
must  needs  grow  weaker  and  weaker. 

Then  Apollyon,  esf/ying  his  opportunity,  Ijc- 
gan  to  gather  up  close  to  Christian,  and  wrest- 

efh^""cS^an  ^'"o  ^^^'^^  ^^i'"-  ^^^^^  ^11""^  ^  drcadful 
ground.*"  ""'  fall ;  and  with  that  Christian's  sword 
flew  out  of  his  hand.  Then  said  Apollyon,  "  I 
am  sure  of  thee  now;"'  and  with  that  he  had 
almost  pressed  him  to  death,  so  that  Christian 

10^ 


226  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

began  to  despair  of  life.     But,  as  Grocl  would 

have  it,  while  Apollyon  was  fetching  his  last 

blow,  thereby  to  make  a  full  end  of  this  good 

man,   Christian  nimbly  reached  out  his  hand 

for  his  sword,  and  caught  it,  saying,  "Rejoice 

not  against  me,  0  mine  enemy:  when  I  fall, 

I  shall  arise,"  Mic.  7:8;  and  with  that  gave 

him  a  deadly  thrust,  which  made  him   cimstian-s vic- 
tory over  Apol- 

give  back,  as  one  that  had  received  'y*'"- 
his  mortal  wound.  Christian  perceiving  that, 
made  at  him  again,  saying,  "Nay,  in  all  these 
things  we  are  more  than  conquerors,  through 
Him  that  loved  us."  Rom.  8  :  3T.  And  with 
that  Apollyon  spread  forth  his  dragon  wings, 
and  sped  him  away,  that  Christian  saw  him  no 
more.     James  4:7. 

In  this  combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless 
he  had  seen  and  heard,  as  I  did,  what  tioti  o^nhe com- 
yelling  and  hideous  roaring  Apollyon  ta^to/^"*'  ^^' 
made  all  the  time  of  the  fight ;  he  spoke  like  a 
dragon :  and  on  the  other  side,  what  sighs  and 
groans  burst  from  Christian's  heart.  I  never 
saw  him  all  the  while  give  so  much  as  one 
pleasant  look,  till  he  perceived  he  had  wounded 
Apollyon  with  his  two-edged  sword ;  then,  in- 
deed, he  did  smile,  and  look  upward.  But  it 
was  the  dreadfulest  sight  that  ever  I  saw. 


THE  PIIADOW   OF   DEATH.  227 

So  when  the  l)atth'  was  over,  Cliristiaii  said, 
ciiristian gives  "I  will  luTe  glvo  thaiiks  to  lliiii  tliat 

God  thanks  lor 

Lis  deliverance.  ]y^[\^  delivered  iiiG  oiit  of  the  inoiitli 
of  the  lion,  to  Him  that  did  lielp  mp  against 
Apollyon."     And  so  he  did,  saying, 

"  Great  Beelzebub,  the  captain  of  this  fiend, 
Designed  my  ruin ;  therefore  to  this  end 
He  sent  him  harnessed  out;  and  he,  with  rage 
That  hellish  was,  did  fiercely  me  engage: 
But  blessed  ^lichael  helped  me,  and  I, 
By  dint  of  sword,  did  quickly  make  him  fly ; 
Therefore  to  Ilim  let  me  give  lasting  praise, 
And  thank  and  bless  his  holy  name  always." 

Then  there  came  to  him  a  hand  with  some 
of  the  leaves  of  the  tree  of  life,  the  which  Chris- 
tian took  and  applied  to  the  wounds-  that  he 
had  received  in  the  battle,  and  was  healed  im- 
mediately. He  also  sat  down  in  that  place  to 
eat  bread,  and  to  drink  of  the  bottle  that  was 
given  him  a  little  before:  so,  being  refreshed, 
Christian  goes  hc  addrcsscd  himself  to  his  journey 

oninhisjourney        ..,      i   .  t      ^  .        ,  .       ,  , 

with  his  sword  With  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand : 

drawn     in     his  ' 

hand.  ^Qj,  YiQ  said,  "I  know  not  but  some 

other  enemy  may  be  at  hand.''     But  he  met 
with   no   other   affront    from   Apollyon   quite 
through  this  valley. 
The  valley  of      Now  at  thc  cud  of  this  valley  was 

the  .Shadow  of 

Death.  another,   called    the   Valley  of   the 

Shadow  of  Death ;  and  Christian  must  needs  go 


228  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

through  it,  because  the  way  to  the  Celestial 
City  lay  through  the  midst  of  it.  Now,  this 
valley  is  a  very  solitary  place.  The  prophet 
Jeremiah  thus  describes  it:  "A  wilderness,  a 
land  of  deserts  and  pits,  a  land  of  drought,  and 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  a  land  that  no  man," 
but  a  Christian,  "passeth  through,  and  where 
no  man  dwelt."     Jer.  2:6. 

Now  here  Christian  was  worse  put  to  it 
than  in  his  fight  with  Apollyon,  as  by  the  sequel 
you  shall  see. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  when  Chris- 
tian was  got  to  the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death,  there  met  him  two  men,  chil-     The  children 

of  the  spies  go 

dren  of  them  that  brought  up  an  evil  ^''''^■ 
report  of  the  good  land.  Num.  13  :  32,  making 
haste  to  go  back ;  to  whom  Christian  spoke  as 
follows. 

Chr.  Whither  are  you  going  ? 

The  men  said,  "Back,  back;  and  we  would 
have  you  do  so  too,  if  either  life  or  peace  is 
prized  by  you." 

"Why,  What's  the  matter?"  said  Chris-- 
tian. 

"Matter!"  said  they;  "we  were  going  that 
way  as  you  are  going,  and  went  as  far  as  we 
durst :  and  indeed  we  were  almost  past  coming 


s?^. 


HORRORS  OF  THE  VALLEV.      229 

back ;  for  bad  we  gone  a  little  i"urtlu'i',  we  had 
not  been  here  to  bring  the  news  to  thee." 

"But  what  have  you  met  with  ?"  said  Chris- 
tian. 

Mex.  Why,  we  were  almost  in  the  valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  but  that  b}'  good  hap 
we  looked  before  us,  and  saw  the  danger  be- 
fore we  came  to  it.     Psa.  44  :  19  ;  107  :  19. 

"But what  have  you  seen?''  said  Christian. 

Men.  Seen!  why  the  valley  itself,  which  is 
as  dark  as  pitch:  we  also  saw  there  the  hob- 
goblins, satyrs,  and  dragons  of. the  pit:  we 
heard  also  in  that  valley  a  continual  howling 
and  yelling,  as  of  a  people  under  unutterable 
misery,  who  there  sat  bound  in  affliction  and 
irons:  and  over  that  valley  hang  the  discour- 
aging clouds  of  confusion;  Death  also  doth 
always  spread  his  wings  over  it.  .  In  a  word, 
it  is  every  whit  dreadful,  being  utterly  without 
order.     Job  3:5;  10:22. 

"Then,"  said  Christian,  "I  perceive  not  yet, 
l>y  what  you  have  said,  but  that  this  is  my  way 
to  the  desired  haven."  Psa.  44:18,  19;  Jer. 
2:6. 

ISIex.  Be  it  thy  way ;  we  will  not  choose  it 
for  ours. 

So  they  parted,  and  Christian  went  <tn  his 


230  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

way,  but  still  with  his  sword  drawn  in  his 
hand,  for  fear  lest  he  should  be  assaulted. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  so  far  as  this  val- 
ley reached,  there  was  on  the  right  hand  a 
very  deep  ditch ;  that  ditch  is  it  into  which  the 
blind  have  led  the  blind  in  all  ages,  and  have 
both  there  miserably  perished.  Again,  behold, 
on  the  left  hand  there  was  a  very  dangerous 
quag,  into  which,  if  even  a  good  man  falls,  he 
finds  no  bottom  for  his  foot  to  stand  on :  into 
that  quag  king  David  once  did  fall,  and  had  no 
doubt  thereia  been  smothered,  had  not  He  that 
is  able  plucked  him  out.     Psa.  69  :  14. 

The  pathway  was  here  also  exceeding  nar- 
row, and  therefore  good  Christian  was  the  more 
put  to  it;  for  when  he  sought  in  the  dark,  to 
shun  the  ditch  on  the  one  hand,  he  Avas  ready 
to  tip  over  into  the  mire  on  the  other;  also, 
when  he  sought  to  escape  the  mire,  without 
great  carefulness  he  would  be  ready  to  fall 
into  the  ditch.  Thus  he  went  on,  and  I  heard 
him  here  sigh  bitterly;  for  besides  the  danger 
mentioned  above,  the  pathway  was  here  so 
dark,  that  ofttimes,  when  he  lifted  up  his  foot 
to  go  forward,  he  knew  not  where,  or  upon 
what  he  should  set  it  next. 

About  the  midst  of  this  valley  I  perceived 


HORRORS  OF  THE  VALLEY.      231 

the  inoutli  of  ]r'11  to  bo,  and  it  stood  also  hai-d 
by  the  wayside.  "Xo^t,■'  thought  Christian, 
"what  shall  I  do?*'  And  ever  and  anon  the 
flame  and  smoke  would  come  out  in  such  abun- 
dance, with  sparks  and  hideous  noises,  (things 
that  cared  not  for  Christian's  sword,  as  did 
Apollyon  before,)  that  he  was  forced  to  put 
U})  his  sword,  and  l)etake  himself  to  another 
weapon  called  All-prayer,  Ej)h.  6:18;  so  he 
cried,  in  my  hearing,  "0  Lord,  I  beseech  thee, 
deliver  my  soul."  Psa.  110  :  4.  Thus  he  went 
on  a  great  while,  yet  still  the  flames  would  l)c 
reaching  towards  him ;  also  he  heard  doleful 
voices,  and  rushings  to  and  fro,  so  that  some- 
times he  thought  he  should  be  torn  in  pieces, 
or  trodden  down  like  mire  in  the  street.  This 
frightful  sight  was  seen,  and  these  dreadful 
noises  were  heard  by  him  for  several  miles 
together;  and  coming  to  a  i)lace  where  he 
thought  he  heard  a  company  of  fiends  coming 
Christian  put  forwanl   to  mcct  him,   he   stopped, 

to  a  stand  lor  a 

while.  r^iid  l)ogan  to  muse  what  he  had  best 

to  do.  Sometimes  he  had  half  a  thought  to  go 
back;  then,  again,  he  thought  he  might  be  half- 
way through  the  valley.  He  remembered  also, 
how  he  had  already  vanquished  many  a  dan- 
ger; and  that  the  clanger  of  going  back  might 


232  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

be  much  more  than  for  to  go  forward.  So  he 
resolved  to  go  on  5  yet  the  fiends  seemed  to 
come  nearer  and  nearer.  But  when  they  were 
come  even  almost  at  him,  he  cried  out  with  a 
most  vehement  voice,  "I  will  walk  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord  God."  So  ihey  gave  back, 
and  came  no  further. 

One  thing  I  would  not  let  slip.  I  took 
notice  that  now  poor  Christian  w^as  so  con- 
founded that  he  did  not  know  his  own  voice; 
and  thus  I  perceived  it.  Just  when  he  was 
come  over  against  the  mouth  of  the  burning 
pit,  one  of  the  wicked  ones  got  behind  him, 
and  stepped  up  softly  to  him,  and  christian  made 

i^  ^  ^  ^  to  believe  that 

whisperingly  suggested  many  griev-  ^LS^wiln 
ous  blasphemies  to  him,  which  he  iLt'^sugge^sted 

them    into    his 

verily  thought  had  proceeded  from  °*''»*^- 
his  own  mind.  This  put  Christian  more  .to  it 
than  any  thing  that  he  met  with  before,  even 
to  think  that  he  should  now  blaspheme  Him 
that  he  loved  so  much  before.  Yet  if  he  could 
have  helped  it,  he  would  not  have  done  it ;  but 
he  had  not  the  discretion  either  to  stop  his 
ears,  or  to  know  from  whence  these  blasphe- 
mies came. 

When  Christian  had  travelled  in  this  dis- 
consolate condition  some  considerable  time,  he 


MORNING  DAWNS.  233 

thought  he  hoard  the  voice  of  a  man,  as  going 
before  him,  saying,  "Though  1  walk  through 
the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I  will  fear 
no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me."     Psa.  23  :  4. 

Then  was  he  glad,  and  that  for  these  rea- 
sons: 

First,  because  he  gathered  from  thence, 
that  some  who  feared  God  were  in  this  valley 
as  well  as  himself. 

Secondly,  for  that  he  perceived  God  was 
with  them,  though  in  that  dark  and  dismal 
state.  "And  Avhy  not,'  thought  he,  "with 
me  ?  though  by  reason  of  the  impediment  that 
attends  this  place,  I  cannot  perceive  it.''  Job 
9:11. 

Thirdly,  for  that  he  hoj)ed,  could  he  over- 
take them,  to  have  company  b}'  and  by.  So 
he  went  on,  and  called  to  him  that  was  before ; 
but  he  knew  not  what  to  answer,  for  that  he 
also  thought  himself  to  be  alone.  And  b}'  and 
by  the  day  broke;  then  said  Christian,  "PIo 
aurtko'l^L^  hath  turned  the  shadow  of  death 
into  the  morning."     Amos  5  : 8. 

Now  morning  being  come,  he  looked  back, 
not  out  of  desire  to  return,  but  to  see,  by  the 
light  of  the  day,  what  hazards  he  had  gone 
tlirough  in  the  dark.     So  he  saw  more  perfectly 


234  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  ditch  that  was  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
quag  that  was  on  the  other ;  also  how  narrow 
the  Avay  was  Avhich  led  between  them  both. 
Also  now  he  saw  the  hobgoblins  and  satyrs 
and  dragons  of  the  pit,  but  all  afar  off;  for 
after  break  of  day  they  came  not  nigh;  yet 
they  were  discovered  to  him,  according  to 
that  which  is  written,  "He  discovereth  deep 
things  out  of  darkness,  and  bringeth  out  to 
light  the  shadow  of  death."     Job  12  :  22.' 

Now  was  Christian  much  affected  Avith  this 
deliverance  from  all  the  dangers  of  his  solitary 
way;  which  dangers,  though  he  feared  them 
much  before,  yet  he  saw  them  more  clearly 
now,  because  the  light  of  the  day  made  them 
conspicuous  to  him.  And  about  this  time  the 
sun  was  rising,  and  this  was  another  mercy  to 
Christian ;  for  you  must  note,  that  though  the 
iirst  part  of  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death 
was  dangerous,  yet  this  second  part,  part  of  thTs^'^a^ 
which  he  was  yet  to  go,  was,  if  pos-  J.^-^'^""""- 
sible,  far  more  dangerous ;  for,  from  the  place 
where  he  now  stood,  even  to  the  end  of  the 
valley,  the  way  was  all  along  set  so  full  of 
snares,  traps,  gins,  and  nets  here,  and  so  full 
of  pits,  pitfalls,  deep  holes,  and  shelvings- 
down  there,  that  had  it  now  been  dark,  as  it 


.\[OR\ING   DAWNS.  235 

was  wlicn  he  came  the  first  i)ai-t  of  tlie  way, 
had  he  had  a  thousand  souls,  they  had  in  rea- 
son been  east  away ;  but,  as  I  said,  just  now 
the  sun  was  rising.  Then  said  he  "His  candle 
shineth  on  my  head,  and  by  his  light  I  go 
through  darkness."     Job  29  :  3. 

In  this  light,  therefore,  he  came  to  the  end 
of  the  valley.  Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that 
at  the  end  of  the  valley  lay  blood,  bones,  ashes, 
and  mangled  bodies  of  men,  even  of  pilgrims 
that  had  gone  this  way  formerly ;.  and  Avliile  I 
was  musing  what  should  be  the  reason,  I  espied 
a  little  before  me  a  cave,  where  two  giants. 
Pope  and  Pagan,  dwelt  in  old  times;  by  whose 
power  and  tyranny  the  men  whose  bones, 
blood,  ashes,  etc.,  lay  there,  were  cruelly  put 
to  death.  But  by  this  place  Christian  went 
without  much  danger,  whereat  I  somewhat 
Avondered;  l)ut  I  have  learnt  since,  that  Pagan 
has  been  dead  many  a  day;  and  as  for  the 
other,  though  he  be  yet  alive,  he  is,  by  reason 
of  age,  and  also  of  the  many  shrewd  brushes 
that  he  met  with  in  his  younger  days,  grown 
so  crazy  and  stifif  in  his  joints  that  he  can  now 
do  little  more  than  sit  in  his  cave's  mouth, 
grinning  at  ])ilgrims  as  they  go  by,  and  ])iting 
his  nails  because  he  cannot  come  at  them. 


236  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So  I  saw  that  Christian  went  on  his  way : 
yet,  at  the  sight  of  the  old  man  that  sat  at  the 
mouth  of  the  cave,  he  could  not  tell  what  to 
think,  especially  because  he  spoke  to  him, 
though  he  could  not  go  after  him,  saying,  "You 
will  never  mend  till  more  of  you  be  burned." 
But  he  held  his  peace,  and  set  a  good  face 
on  it;  and  so  went  by,  and  catched  no  hurt. 
Then  sang  Christian, 

"0  world  of  wonders— I  can  say  no  less— 
That  I  should  be  preserved  in  that  distress 
That  I  have  met  with  liere !    0  blessed  be 
That  hand  that  from  it  hath  delivered  me ! 
Dangers  in  darkness,  devils,  hell,  and  sin, 
Did  comi)ass  me,  while  I  this  vale  was  in ; 
Yea,  snares  and  pits  and  traps  and  nets  did  He 
My  path  about,  that  worthless,  silly  I 
Might  have  been  catched,  entangled,  and  cast  down ; 
But  since  I  live,  let  Jesus  wear  the  crown." 


CURISTIAX  SEES  FAITHFUL.  237 


THE  FIFTH  STAGE. 

Now,  as  Christian  went  on  liis  way,  he 
came  to  a  little  ascent,  wliich  was  cast  up  on 
])urpose  that  pilgrims  might  see  before  them : 
up  there,  therefore,  Christian  went;  and  look- 
ing forward,  he  saw  Faithful  before  him  upon 
his  journey.  Then  said  Christian  aloud,  "Ho, 
ho ;  soho ;  stay,  and  I  will  be  3'our  companion." 
At  that  Faithful  looked  behind  him ;  to  whom 
Christian  cried  again,  "Stay,  stay,  till  I  come 
up  to  you."  But  Faithful  answered,  "No,  I 
am  upon  my  life,  and  the  avenger  of  blood  is 
behind  me." 

At  this  Christian  was  somewhat  moved, 
and  putting  to  all  his  strength,  he  quickly  got 
takJiSiTu"  up  with  Faithful,  and  did  also  over- 
run him;  so  the  last  was  first.  Then  did 
Christian  vaingloriously  smile,  because  he  had 
gotten  the  start  of  his  brother;  but  not  taking 
good  heed  to  his  feet,  he  suddenl}'  stumbled 
and  fell,  and  could  not  rise  again  until  Faith- 
ful came  up  to  help  him. 

nlak't?Kai'thaIl  Thcu  I  saw  lu  my  dream,  they 
fngiy 'tSle'ther'  wcut  vcry  lovlngly  on  together,  and 
had   sweet   disc/^urse   of  all   tliintrs    that    had 


238  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

happened  to  them  in  their  pilgrimage  ;  and 
thus  Christian  began. 

Cur.  My  honored  and  well-beloved  brother 
Faithful,  I  am  glad  that  I  have  overtaken  you, 
and  that  God  has  so  tempered  our  spirits  that 
we  can  walk  as  companions  in  this  so  pleasant 
a  path. 

Faith.  I  had  thought,  my  dear  friend,  to 
have  had  your  company  quite  from  our  town, 
but  you  did  get  the  start  of  me ;  wherefore  I 
was  forced  to  come  thus  much  of  the  way 
alone. 

Chr.  How  long  did  you  stay  in  the  city  of 
Destruction  before  you  set  out  after  me  on 
your  pilgrimage  ? 

Faith.  Till  I  could  stay  no  longer;  for 
there  was  a  great  talk  presently  Sf  "^''couury 
after  you  were  gone  out,  that  our  they  canl'e"""''*' 
city  would,  in  a  short  time,  with  fire  from 
heaven,  be  burnt  down  to  the  ground. 

Chr.  What,  did  your  neighbors  talk  so  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  it  was  for  a  while  in  every 
body's  mouth. 

Chr.  What,  and  did  no  .more  of  them  but 
you  come  out  to  escape  the  danger  ? 

Faith.  Though  there  was,  as  I  said,  a  great 
talk  thereabout,  yet  I  do  not  think  thev  did 


CIIRISTIAX   AX  I)   FAITHFUL.  239 

firmly  Ix'liove  it;  lor,  in  the  licat  of  the  dis- 
eour.^o,  1  heard  sonic  of  them  deridin^ly  speak 
of  you  and  of  your  desperate  journey,  for  so 
they  called  this  your  i)ilgrimagc.  But  I  did 
believe,  and  do  still,  that  the  end  of  our  cit}' 
will  be  with  lire  and  brimstone  from  above; 
and  therefore  I  have  made  my  escape. 

Ciii{.  Did  you  liear  no  talk  of  neighbor 
Pliable  ? 

Faith,  Yes,  Christian,  I  heard  that  he  fol- 
lowed you  till  he  came  to  the  slough  of  De- 
spond, where,  as  some  .-^aid,  he  fell  in  ;  but  he 
would  not  be  known  to  have  so  done;  but  I 
am  sure  he  was  soundly  l)edabbled  with  that 
kind  of  dirt. 

Chr.  And  what  said  the  neighbors  to  him? 

Faith.  He  hath,  since  his  going  back,  been 
w^Tccoumed  ^ad  greatly  in  derision,  and.  that 
home.""  '^  ^"'  among  all  sorts  of  i)eo})le :  some  do 
mock  and  despise  him,  and  scarce  will  any  set 
him  on  work.  He  is  now  seven  times  worse 
than  if  he  had  never  gone  out  of  the  city. 

Chu.  But  why  should  they  be  so  set  against 
him,  since  they  also  despise  the  way  that  he 
forsook  ? 

Faith.  Oh,  they  say,  "Hang  him;  he  is  a 
turncoat;  he  was  not  true  to  his  profession!" 


240  PILGRIM'S  rROGRESS. 

I  think  God  has  stirred  up  even  His  enemies 
to  hiss  at  him,  and  make  him  a  proverb,  be- 
cause he  hath  forsaken  the  way.  Jer.  29  :18, 
19. 

Chr.  Had  you  no  talk  with  liim  before  joii 
came  out? 

Faith.  I  met  him  once  in  the  streets,  but 
he  leered  away  on  the  other  side,  as  one 
ashamed  of  what  he  had  done ;  so  I  spoke  not 
to  him. 

Chr.  Well,  at  my  first  setting  out  I  had 
hopes  of  that  man ;  but  now  I  fear  he  will  per- 
ish in  the  overthrow  of  the  city.  "  For  it  has 
happened  to  him  according  to  the  true  proverb, 
"The  dog  is  turned  to  his  vomit  again,  and  the 
sow  that  was  washed  to  her  w^allowing  in  the 
mire."     2  Pet.  2  :  22. 

I]aith.  These  are  my  fears  of  him  too ;  but 
who  can  hinder  that  which  will  be  ? 

"Well,  neighbor  Faithful,"  said  Christian, 
"let  us  leave  him,  and  talk  of  things  that  more 
immediately  concern  ourselves.  Tell  me  now 
what  you  have  met  with  in  the  way  as  you 
came;  for  I  know  you  have  met  Avith  some 
things,  or  else  it  may  be  writ  for  a  wonder." 

Faith.  I  escaped  the  slough  that  I  per- 
ceived you  fell  into,  and  got  up  to  the  gate 


rilRISTIAN    AND   FAITHFUL.  241 

williotil  lliat  daii.tivr;  only  1  lucl  with  one  whose 
Faithful  as  name  was  Wanton,  who  had  like  to 

saultedby  Wan  •       i   •    p 

ton  liave  done  me  miscniet. 

CiiK.  It  was  well  you  escaped  her  net :  Jo- 
seph was  hard  put  to  it  by  her,  and  he  escaped 
her  as  you  did ;  but  it  had  like  to  have  cost 
him  his  life.  Gen.  39:11-13.  But  what  did 
she  do  to  you  ? 

FArni.  You  cannot  think  (but  that  you  know 
something)  what  a  flattering  tongue  she  had ; 
she  lay  at  me  hard  to  turn  aside  with  her,  prom- 
ising me  all  manner  of  content. 

CiiR.  Xay,  she  did  not  promise  you  the 
content  of  a  good  conscience. 

Faith.  You  know  that  I  mean  all  carnal 
and  fleshly  content. 

Chk.  Thank  God  that  you  escaped  her :  the 
abhorred  of  the  Lord  shall  fall  into  her  i)it. 
Prov.  22:14. 

Faitu.  Nay,  I  know  not  whether  I  did 
wholly  escape  her  or  no. 

CiiK.  Why,  I  trow  you  did  not  consent  to 
Iier  desires. 

Faitit.  No,  not  to  defile  myself;  for  I  re- 
membered an  old  w  riting  that  I  had  seen,  which 
said,  "Her  steps  take  hold  on  hell."  Prov. 
5  : 5.     So  I  shut  mine  eves,  because  I  would 


242  PILGRIM'B  PROGRESS. 

not  be  bewitclied  with  her  looks.  Job  31:1. 
Then  she  railed  on  me,  and  I  went  my  way. 

Chr.  Did  yon  meet  with  no  other  assault 
as  you  came  ? 

Faith.  When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  • 
called  Difficulty,  I  met  with  a  very     raithfui  wasj 

"     assaulted       by*' 

aged  man,  who  asked  me  what  I  was,  Adam  the  First. 
and^  whither  bound.  I  told  him  that  I  was  a 
pilgrim,  going  to  the  Celestial  City.  Then  said 
the  old  man,  "Thou  lookest  like  an  honest  fel- 
low ;  wilt  thou  be  content  to  dwell  with  me  for 
the  wages  that  I  shall  give  thee?"  Then  I 
asked  his  name,  and  where  he  dwelt.  He  said 
his  name  was  Adam  the  First,  and  that  he  dwdt 
in  the  tow^n  of  Deceit.  Eph.  4  :  22.  I  asked 
him  then  Avhat  was  his  work,  and  what  the 
wages  that  he  would  give.  He  told  me  that 
his  work  was  7?7an?/  delights;  and  his  wages, 
that  I  should  be  his  heir  at  last.  I  further 
asked  him  what  house  he  kept,  and  what  other 
servants  he  had.  So  he  told  me  that  his  house 
w^as  maintained  with  all  the  dainties  of  the 
w^orld,  and  that  his  servants  were  those  of  hio 
own  begetting.  Then  I  asked  how  many  chil- 
dren he  had.  He  said  that  he  had  but  three 
daughters,  the  Lust  of  the  Flesh,  the  Lust  of 
the  Eyes,  and  the  Pride  of  Life,  1  John  2:16; 


CHRISTIAN  AND  FAITH  111..  ill;; 

and  that  I  sluMild  niarrv  tliein  if  I  would.  Then 
I  asked,  how  long  time  he  would  have  me  live 
with  him ;  and  he  told  me,  as  long  as  he  lived 
himself. 

Chr.  Well,  and  what  conclusion  came  the 
old  man  and  you  to  at  last  ? 

Faith.  Why,  at  first  I  found  myself  some- 
what inclinable  to  go  with  the  man,  for  I  thought 
he  spoke  very  fair ;  but  looking  in  his  forehead, 
as  I  talked  with  him,  I  saw  there  written,  "Put 
off  the  old  man  with  his  deeds." 

Chr.  And  how  then  ? 

Faith.  Then  it  came  burning  hot  into  my 
mind,  that,  whatever  he  said,  and  however  he 
flattered,  when  he  got  me  home  to  his  house  he 
would  sell  me  for  a  slave.  So  I  bid  him  for- 
bear to  talk,  for  I  would  not  ^^le  near  the 
door  of  his  house.  Then  he  reviled  me,  and 
told  me  that  he  would  send  such  a  one  after 
me  that  should  make  my  way  bitter  to  my  soul. 
So  I  turned  to  go  away  from  him ;  but  just  as 
I  turned  myself  to  go  thence,  I  felt  him  take 
hold  of  my  flesh,  and  give  me  such  a  deadlv 
twitch  back,  that  I  thought  he  had  pulled  part 
of  me  after  himself:  this  made  me  cry,  'Oh 
wretched  man."  Rom.  7  :  24.  So  1  went  on 
my  way  up  the  hill. 


244  PILGRIxM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now,  when  I  had  got  about  half-way  up,  I 
looked  behind  me,  and  saw  one  coming  after 
me,  swift  as  the  wind ;  so  he  overtook  me  just 
about  the  place  where  the  settle  stands.  ' 

"Just  there,"  said  Christian,  "did  I  sit 
down  to  rest  me;  but  being  overcome  with 
sleep,  I  there  lost  this  roll  out  of  my  bosom." 

Faith.  But,  good  brother,  hear  me  out.  So 
soon  as  the  man  overtook  me,  it  was  but  a 
word  and  a  blow;  for  down  he  knocked  me, 
and  laid  me  for  dead.  But  when  I  was  a  little 
come  to  myself  again,  I  asked  him  wherefore 
he  served  me  so.  He  said,  because  of  my 
secret  inclining  to  Adam  the  First.  And  with 
that  he  struck  me  another  deadly  blow  on  the 
breast,  and  beat  me  down  backward ;  so  I  lay 
at  his  feet  as^ead  as  before.  So  when  I  came 
10  myself  again,  I  cried  him  mercy:  but  he 
•said,  I  know  not  how  to  shoAv  mercy ;  and  with 
that  he  knocked  me  down  again.  He  had 
doubtless  made  an  end  of  me,  but  that  one 
came  by  and  bid  him  forbear. 

Chr.  Who  was  that  that  bid  him  forbear  ? 

Faith.  I  did  not  know  him  at  first:  but  as 
he  went  by,  I  perceived  the  holes  in  his  hands, 
and  in  his  side ;  then  I  concluded  that  he  was 
our  Lord.     So  I  went  up  the  hill. 


CHRISTIAN   AND   FAITIIKIL.  245 

Chr.  That  man  that  otcrtook  you  was  Mo- 
or Mo'lea^*""^'"  ses.  He  spareth  none  ;  neither  know- 
eth  he  how  to  show  mercy  to  those  that  trans- 
gress the  knv. 

Faith.  I  know  it  very  well:  it  was  not  the 
first  time  that  he  has  met  with  me.  "T  was  lie 
that  came  to  me  when  I  dwelt  securel}'  at  home, 
and  that  told  me  that  he  would  burn  my  house 
over  my  head  if  T  stayed  there. 

Chr.  But  did  you  not  see  the  house  that 
stood  there  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  on  the  side 
of  which  Closes  met  you  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  and  the  lions  too,  before  I 
came  at  it.  But,  for  the  lions,  I  think  the}^ 
were  asleep,  for  it  was  about  noon;  and  be- 
cause I  had  so  much  of  the  day  before  me,  I 
passed  by  the  porter,  and  came  down  the  hill. 

Chr.  He  told  me,  indeed,  that  he  saw  you 
go  by;  but  I  wish  that  you  had  called  at  the 
house,  for  they  would  have  showed  you  so 
many  rarities  that  you  would  scarce  have  for- 
got them  to  the  day  of  your  death.  But  pray 
tell  me,  did  you  meet  nobody  in  the  valley  of 
Humility  ? 

Faithful  as-        Faith.  Ycs,  I  uict  with  oiic  Dis- 

saultcd  by  Dis- 
content, content,   who  would  willingly   have 

persuaded  me  to  go  back  again  with  him :  his 


246  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

reason  was,  for  that 'the  valley  was  altogether 
without  honor.  He  told  me,  moreover,  that 
to  go  there  was  the  way  to  disoblige  all  my 
friends,  as  Pride,  Arrogancy,  Self-Conceit, 
Worldly  Glory,  with  others,  who  he  knew, 
as  he  said,  would  be  very  much  offended  if  I 
made  such  a  fool  of  myself  as  to  wade  through 
this  valley. 

Chr.  Well,  and  how  did  3^ou  answer  him  ? 

Faith.  I  told  him,  that  although  all  these 

that  he  named  might  claim  a  kindred    Faithfuls  an- 
swer to  Discon- 

of  me,  and  that  rightly,  (for  indeed  t*^"*- 
they  were  my  relations  according  to  the  flesh,) 
yet  since  I  became  a  pilgrim  they  have  dis- 
owned me,  and  I  also  have  rejected  them ;  and 
therefore  they  were  to  me  now  no  more  than  if 
they  had  never  been  of  my  lineage.  I  told 
him,  moreover,  that  as  to  this  valley,  he  had 
quite  misrepresented  the  thing;  for  before 
honor  is  humility,  and  a  haughty  spirit  before 
a  fall.  "Therefore,"  said  I,  "I  had  rather  go 
through  this  valley  to  the  honor  that  was  so 
accounted  by  the  wisest,  than  choose  that 
which  he  esteemed  most  worthy  of  our  affec- 
tions." 

Chr.  Met  you  with  nothing  else  in  that 
valley  ? 


CHRISTIAN   AND    FAITHFUL.  247 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame ;  but  of  all 
JyVhamr""*  tlic  111011  tluit  I  luct  With  Oil  iiiv  pil- 
grimage, he,  I  think,  bears  the  wrong  name. 
The  others  would  be  said  nay,  after  a  little 
argumentation,  and  somewhat  else;  but  this 
bold-faced  J^hame  would  never  have  done. 

Chr.  "Why,  what  did  he  sa}'  to  3'ou  ? 

Faith.  What!  why,  he  objected  against 
religion  itself.  He  said  it  was  a  pitiful,  low, 
sneaking  business  for  a  man  to  mind  religion. 
He  said  that  a  tender  conscience  was  an  un- 
manly thing;  and  that  for  a  man  to  watch  over 
his  words  and  ways,  so  as  to  tie  up  himself 
from  that  hectoring  liberty  that  the  brave 
spirits  of  the  times  accustom  themselves  unto, 
would  make  him  the  ridicule  of  the  times.  He 
objected  also,  that  but  few  of  the  mighty,  rich, 
or  wise,  were  ever  of  my  opinion ;  nor  an}'  of 
them  neither,  before  they  were  persuaded  to 
be  tools,  and  to  be  of  a  voluntary  fondness  to 
venture  the  loss  of  all  for  nobody  knows  what. 
1  Cor.  1:20;  3:18;  Phil.  3:7-0:  John  7  :  48. 
He,  moreover,  objected  the  base  and  low  estate 
and  condition  of  those  that  were  chiefly  the 
pilgrims  of  the  times  in  which  they  lived:  also 
their  ignorance  and  want  of  understanding  in 
all  natural  science.     Yea,  he  did  hold  me  to  it 


248  .      PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

at  that  rate  also,  about  a  great  many  more 
things  than  here  I  relate;  as,  that  it  was  a 
shame  to  sit  whining  and  mourning  under  a 
sermon,  and  a  shame  to  come  sighing  and 
groaning  home;  that  it  was  a  shame  to  ask 
my  neighbor  forgiveness  for  petty  faults,  or  to 
make  restitution  where  I  have  taken  from  any. 
He  said  also,  that  religion  made  a  man  grow 
strange  to  the  great,  because  of  a  few  vices, 
which  he  called  by  finer  names,  and  made  him 
own  and  respect  the  base,  because  of  the  same 
religious  fraternity;  ''and  is  not  this,"  said  he, 
"a  shame?" 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  say  to  him  ? 

Faith.  Say  ?  I  could  not  tell  what  to  say 
at  first.  Yea,  he  put  me  so  to  it,  that  my 
blood  came  up  in  my  face;  even  this  Shame 
fetched  it  up,  and  had  almost  beat  me  quite  off. 
But  at  last  I  began  to  consider,  that  that  which 
is  highly  esteemed  among  men  is  abomination 
in  the  sight  of  God.  Luke  16  :15.  And  I 
thought  again,  this  Shame  tells  me  what  men 
are ;  but  he  tells  me  nothing  what  God,  or  the 
word  of  God  is.  And  I  thought,  moreover, 
that  at  the  day  of  doom  we  shall  not  be 
doomed  to  death  or  life  according  to  the  hec- 
toring spirits  of  the  world,  but  according  to 


CHRISTIAN   AND   FAITHFUL.  249 

the  wisdom  and  luw  of  the  Highest.  "There- 
fore," thought  I,  "what  God  says  is  best,  is 
indeed  best,  though  all  the  men  in  the  world 
are  against  it."  Seeing,  thou,  that  God  prefers 
his  religion ;  seeing  God  prefers  a  tender  con- 
science ;  seeing  the}-  that  make  themselves  fools 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  are  wisest,  and  that 
the  ])oor  man  that  loveth  C'hrist  is  richer  than 
the  greatest  man  in  the  world  that  hates  him„ 
Shame,  depart ;  thou  art  an  enemy  to  my  sal- 
vation. Shall  I  entertain  thee  against  my 
sovereign  Lord?  How  then  shall  I  look  Him 
in  the  face  at  his  comiilg?  Mark  8:38. 
Should  I  now  be  ashamed  of  his  ways  and  ser- 
vants, how  can  I  expect  the  blessing?  But 
indeed  this  Shame  was  a  bold  villain ;  I  could 
scarcely  shake  him  out  of  my  company;  yea, 
he  would  be  haunting  of  me,  and  continually 
whispering  me  in  the  ear  with  some  one  or 
other  of  the  infirmities  that  attend  religion. 
But  at  last  I  told  him  that  it  was  but  in  vain 
to  attempt  further  in  this  business,  for  those 
things  that  he  disdained,  in  those  did  I  see 
most  glory;  and  so  at  last  I  got  past  this  im- 
portunate one.  And  when  T  had  shaken  him 
off,  then  I  began  to  sing. 


ir 


250  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

"The  trials  that  those  men  do  meet  withal, 
That  are  obedient  to  the  heavenly  call, 
Are  manifold,  and  suited  to  the  flesh, 
And  come  and  come  and  come  again  afresh, 
That  now,  or  some  time  else,  we  by  them  may 
Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  away. 
0  let  the  pilgrims,  let  the  pilgrims  then 
Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  men." 

Chr.  I  am  glad,  my  brother,  that  thoiitlidst 
withstand  this  villain  so  bravely,  for  of  all,  as 
thou  sayest,  I  think  he  has  the  wrong  name ; 
for  he  is  so  bold  as  to  follow  us  in  the  streets, 
and  to  attempt  to  put  us  to  shame  before  all 
men ;  that  is,  to  make  us  ashamed  of  that  which 
is  good.  But  if  he'Avas  not  himself  audacious, 
he  would  never  attempt  to  do  as  he  does.  But 
let  us  still  resist  him ;  for,  notwithstanding  all 
his  bravadoes,  he  promoteth  the  fool,  and  none 
else.  "The  wise  shall  inherit  glory,"  said  Sol- 
omon; "but  shame  shall  be  the  promotion  of 
fools."     Prov.  3  :  35.   ' 

Faith.  I  think  we  must  cry  to  Him  for 
help  against  Shame,  that  w^ould  have- us  to  be 
valiant  for  truth  upon  the  earth. 

Chr.  You  say  true ;  but  did  you  meet  no- 
body else  in  that  valley  ? 

Faith.  No,  not  I;  for  I  had  sunshine  all 
the  rest  of  the  way  through  that,  and  also 
through  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 


TALKATIVE  MET.  251 

Chr.  "T  was  Avell  for  yon:  I  am  sure  it 
fared  far  otherwise  with  me.  I  had  for  a  loii<^' 
season,  as  soon  ahnost  as  I  entered  into  tliat 
valley,  a  dreadful  combat  with  that  foul  heud 
Apollyon;  yea,  I  thought  verily  he  would  have 
killed  me,  especially  wdien  he  got  me  down, 
and  crushed  me  under  him,  as  if  he  would  have 
crushed  me  to  pieces ;  for  as  he  threw  me,  my 
sword  flew  out  of  my  hand :  nay,  he  told  mc 
he  was  sure  of  me;  but  I  cried  to  God,  and  he 
heard  me,  and  delivered  me  out  of  all  my 
troubles.  Then  I  entered  into  the  valley  of 
the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  had  no  light  for  al- 
most half  the  way  through  it.  I  thought  I 
should  have  been  killed  there  over  and  over; 
but  at  last  day  broke,  and  the  sun  rose,  and  I 
went  through  that  which  was  behind  with  far 
more  ease  and  quiet. 

Moreover,  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  as  they 
went  on.  Faithful,  as  he  chanced  to  look  on 
one  side,  saw  a  man  whose  name  w^as  Talka- 
tive, walking  at  a  distance  beside  them;  for  in 
this  place  there  was  room  enough  for  them  all 
sJbid'"'' '"  to  walk.  He  was  a  tall  man.  and 
something  more  comely  at  a  distance  than  at 
hand.  To  this  man  Faithful  addressed  himself 
in  this  manner. 


252  PILGRIxM'S  PROGRESS. 

Faith.  Friend,  whither  away?  Are  you 
going  to  the  heavenly  country  ? 

Talk.  I  am  going  to  the  same  place. 

Faith.  That  is  well ;  then  I  hope  we  shall 
have  your  good  company  ? 

Talk.  With  a  very  good  will  will  I  be 
your  companion. 

Faith.  Come  on,  then,  and  let  us  go  to- 
gether, and  let  us  spend  our  time  in     raitMui  and 

Talkative  enter 

discoursing  of  things  that  are  profit-  i"to  discourse. 
able. 

Talk.  To  talk  of  things  that  are  good,  to 
me  is  very  acceptable,  with  you  or  with  any 
other;  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  met  with 
those  that  incline  to  so  good  a  work ;  xaikatives dis. 

like  of  bad  dis 

for,  to  speak  the  truth,  there  are  but  ''^'i'^*^- 
few  who  care  thus  to  spend  their  time  as  they 
are  in  their  travels,  but  choose  much  rather  to 
be  speaking  of  things  to  no  profit ;  and  this  hath 
been  a  trouble  to  me. 

Faith.  That  is  indeed  a  thing  to  be  la- 
mented; for  what  thing  so  worthy  of  the  use 
of  the  tongue  and  mouth  of  men  on  earth,  as 
are  the  things  of  the  God  of  heaven  ? 

Talk.  I  like  you  wonderful  well,  for  your 
saying  is  full  of  conviction;  and  I  will  add, 
What  thing  is  so  pleasant,  and  what  so  profit- 


TALKATIVE   AND    FAITJIFTL.  253 

able,  as  to  talk  of  the  things  of  God?  AVhat 
things  so  pleasant?  that  is,  if  a  man  hath  any 
delight  in  things  that  arc  wonderfnl.  For 
instance,  if  14  man  doth  delight  to  talk  of  (he 
Iiistory  or  the  myster}^  of  things,  or  if  a  man 
doth  love  to  talk  of  miracles,  wonders,  or  signs, 
where  shall  he  find  things  recorded  so  delight- 
ful, and  so  sweetly  penned,  as  in  the  holy 
Scripture  ? 

Faith.  That  is  true ;  but  to  be  profited  by 
such  things  in  our  talk,  should  be  our  chief 
design. 

Talk.  That's  it  that  I  said;  for  to  talk 
of  such  things  is  most  profitable;  for  by  so 
doing  a  man  nuiy  get  knowledge  of  many 
things,  as  of  the  vanity  of  earthly  things,  and 
the  benefit  of  things  above.  Thus  in  gen- 
fine  ciiscouree'' '  cral ;  but  more  particularly,  by  this 
a  man  may  learn  the  necessity  of  the  new 
birth,  the  insufficiency  of  our  works,  the  need 
of  Christ's  righteousness,  etc.  Besides,  by 
this  a  man  may  learn  what  it  is  to  repent, 
to  believe,  to  pray,  to  suffer,  or  the  like;  by 
this  also,  a  man  may  learn  what  are  the 
great  promises  and  consolations  of  the  gos- 
pel, to  his  own  comfort.  Further,  by  this  a 
man  may   learn   to   refute   false   opinions,   to 


254  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

vindicate  the  truth,  and  also  to  instruct  the 
ignorant. 

Faith.  All  this  is  true ;  and  glad  am  I  to 
hear  these  things  from  you,  « 

Talk.  Alas,  the  want  of  this  is  the  cause 
that  so  few  understand  the  need  of  faith,  and 
'the  necessity  of  a  work  of  grace  in  their  soul, 
in  order  to  eternal  life ;  but  ignorantly  live  in 
the  works  of  the  law,  by  which  a  man  can  by 
no  means  obtain  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Faith.  But,  by  your  leave,  heavenly  know- 
ledge of  these  is  the  gift  of  God;  no  man 
attaineth  to  them  by  human  industry,  or  only 
by  the  talk  of  them. 

Talk.  All  this  I  know  very  well;  for  a 
man  can  receive  nothing,  except  it  Taikativef"^''''' 
be  given  him  from  heaven :  all  is  of  grace,  not 
of  works.  I  could  give  you  a  hundred  scrip- 
tures for  the  confirmation  of  this. 

"Well,  then,"'  said  Faithful,  "what  is  that 
one  thing  that  we  shall  at  this  time  found  our 
discourse  upon?" 

Talk.  What  you  will.  I  will  talk  of  things 
heavenly,  or  things  earthly;  things  Taikauve !"''''" 
moral,  or  things  evangelical ;  things  sacred,  or 
things  profane ;  things  past,  or  things  to  come ; 
things  foreign,  or  things  at  home ;  things  more 


TALKATIVE   DISCOVERED.  255 

essential,  or  tilings  circiinistantial :  provided 
that  all  be  done  to  our  profit. 

Now  did  Faithful  begin  to  wonder;  and 
Faithful  be-  stepping  to  Christian,  (for  he  walked 
^"''^^  all  this  while  by  himself.)  he  said  to 

him,  but  softly,  ''What  a  brave  comjianion 
have  we  got!  Surely  this  man  will  make  a 
very  excellent  pilgrim.'' 

At  this  Christian  modestly  smiled,  and  said, 
Christian feakes  "This  mau.  Willi  wlioui  you  are  so 
Taik'atrvc.'^^teri  takcn,  wiU  beoHiilc  with  this  tongue 

iu?         Faithful  '  °  '^ 

who  he  was.  Qf  jjjg  twenty  of  them  that  know  him 
not.'' 

Faith.  Do  you  know  him,  then? 

dm.  Know  him?  Yes,  better  than  he 
knows  himself. 

Faith.  Pray  wdiat  is  he  ? 

Chr.  His  name  is  Talkative :  he  dwelleth  in 
our  town.  I  wonder  you  should  be  a  stranger  to 
him,  only  I  consider  that  our  town  is  large. 

Faith.  Whose  son  is  he  ?  And  whereabout 
doth  he  dwell  ? 

Chr.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Say-well.  He 
dwelt  in  Prating-row ;  and  he  is  known  to  all 
that  are  acquainted  with  him  by  the  name  of 
Talkative  of  Prating-row ;  and  notwithstanding 
his  fine  tongue,  he  is  but  a  sorry  fellow. 


256  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Faith.  Well,  lie  seems  to  be  a  very  pretty 
man. 

Chr.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  a 
thorough  acquaintance  with  him,  for  he  is  best 
abroad;  near  home  he  is  ugly  enough.  Your 
saying  that  he  is  a  pretty  man,  brings  to  my 
mind  what  I  have  observed  in  the  work  of  a 
painter  whose  pictures  show  best  at  a  distance  ; 
but  very  near,  more  unpleasing. 

Faith.  But  I  am  ready  to  think  you  do  but 
jest,  because  you  smiled. 

Chr.  God  forbid  that  I  should  jest  (though 
I  smiled)  in  this  matter,  or  that  I  should  accuse 
any  falsely.  I  will  give  you  a  further  discov- 
ery of  him.  This  man  is  for  any  company,  and 
for  any  talk:  as  he  talketh  now  with  you,  so 
will  he  talk  when  he  is  on  the  ale-bench;  and 
the  more  drink  he  hath  in  his  crown,  the  more 
of  these  things  he  hath  in  his  mouth.  Eeligion 
hath  no  place  in  his  heart,  or  house,  or  conver- 
sation ;  all  he  hath  lieth  in  his  tongue,  and  his 
religion  is  to  make  a  noise  therewith. 

Faith.  Say  jon  so?  Then  am  I  in  this  man 
greatly  deceived. 

Chr.  Deceived!  you  may  be  sure  of  it. 
Remember  the  proverb,  "They  say,  biftdols'not^'' 
and  do  not;'"  but  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not 


TALKATIVE'S  CHARACTER.  257 

ill  word,  but  in  power.  ^latt.  23  : 3 ;  1  Cor. 
4  :  20.  He  talkcth  of  praj'cr,  of  '■epentance, 
of  faith,  and  of  the  new  birth ;  but  he  knows 
but  only  to  talk  of  them.  I  have  })een  in  his 
family,  and  have  observed  him  both  at  home 
and  abroad ;  and  I  know  what  I  say  of  him  is 
His  house  is  the. truth.    His  house  is  as  emptv  of 

empty  of  relig-  i   •.  p  ^        e 

ion.  religion  as  the  white  ot  an  egg  is  oi 

savor.  There  is  there  neither  prayer,  nor  sign 
of  repentance  for  sin;  yea,  the  brute,  in  hie 
kind,  serves  God  far  better  than  he.  He  is 
to"eiigion.'"''"  the  very  stain,  reproach,  and  shame 
of  religion  to  all  that  know  him,  Rom.  2  :  23, 
24 ;  it  can  hardly  have  a  good  word  in  all  that 
end  of  the  town  whrre  he  dwells,  through  him. 
use^ofhiT""^  Thus  say  the  common  people  that 
know  him,  "A  saint  abroad,  and  a  devil  at 
home."  His  poor  family  finds  it  so ;  he  is  such 
a  churl,  such  a  railer  at,  and  so  unreasonable 
with  his  servants,  that  they  neither  know  how 
to  do  for  or  speak  to  him.  ^len  that  have  any 
dealings  with  him  say  it  is  better  to  deal  with 
deal  with  urm'*'  a  Turk  than  with  him,  for  ftiirer  deal- 
ings they  shall  have  at  their  hands.  This  Talk- 
ative, if  it  be  possible,  will  go  beyond  them, 
defraud,  beguile,  and  overreach  them.  Besides, 
he  brings  up  his  sons  to  follow  his  steps ;  and 


258  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

if  lie  finds  in  any  of  them  a  foolish  timorous- 
ness,  (for  so  he  calls  the  first  appearance  of  a 
tender  conscience,)  he  calls  them  fools  and 
blockheads,  and  by  no  means  will  employ  them 
in  much,  or  speak  to  their  commendation  before 
others.  For  my  part,  I  am  of  opinion  that  he 
has,  by  his  wicked  life,  caused  many  to  stum- 
ble and  fall ;  and  will  be,  if  God  prevents  not, 
the  ruin  of  many  more. 

Faith.  Well,  my  brother,  I  am  bound  to 
believe  you,  not  only  because  you  say  you 
know  him,  but  also  because,  like  a  Chris- 
tian, you  make  your  reports  of  men.  For 
I  cannot  think  that  you  speak  these  things 
of  ill-will,  but  because  it  is  even  so  as  you 
say. 

Chr.  Had  I  known  him  no  more  than  you, 
I  might  perhaps  have  thought  of  him  as  at  the 
first  you  did ;  yea,  had  I  received  this  report 
at  their  hands  only  that  are  enemies  to  religion, 
I  should  have  thought  it  had  been  a  slander — a 
lot  that  often  falls  from  bad  men's  mouths  upon 
good  meif's  names  and  professions.  But  all 
these  things,  yea,  and  a  great  many  more  as' 
bad,  of  my  own  knowledge  I  can  prove  him 
guilty  of.  Besides,  good  men  are  ashamed  of 
him;  they  can  neither  call  him  brother  nor 


TALKATIVE'S  CHARACTER.  259 

friend ;  the  very  iiaining  of  him  among  them 
makes  them  bhl^^h,  if  they  know  him. 

Faith.  Well,  I  see  that  saying  and  doing 
are  two  things,  and  hereafter  I  shall  better 
observe  this  distinetion, 

Chr.  They  are  two  things  indeed,  and  are 
as  diverse  as  are  the  soul  and  the  body ;  for, 
rengfor"'''"as  the  body  without  the  soul  is  but 
a  dead  carcass,  so  saf/t?ig,  if  it  be  alone,  is  but 
a  dead  carcass  also.  The  soul  of  religion  is- 
the  practical  part.  "Pure  religion  and  unde- 
filed  before  God  and  the  Father  is  this.  To  visit 
the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  affliction, 
and  to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world.'' 
See  James  1  :  22-27.  This,  Talkative  is  not 
aware  of:  he  thinks  that  hearing  and  saying 
will  make  a  good  Christian ;  and  thus  he  deceiv- 
eth  his  own  soul.  Hearing  is  but  as  the  sowino: 
of  the  seed ;  talking  is  not  sufficient  to  prove 
that  fruit  is  indeed  in  the  heart  and  life. .  And 
let  us  assure  ourselves,  that  at  the  day  of  doom 
men  shall  be  judged  according  to  their  fruits. 
Matt.  13:23.  It  will  not  be  said  then,  Did 
you  believe  ?  but.  Were  you  doers,  or  talkers 
only?  and  accordingly  shall  they  be  judged. 
The  end  of  the  world  is  compared  to  our  har- 
vest, Matt.  13  :  30,  and  vou  know  men  at  har- 


260  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

vest  regard  nothing  but  fruit.  Not  that  any 
thing  can  be  accepted  that  is  not  of  faith ;  but 
I  speak  this  to  show  you  how  insignificant  the 
profession  of  Talkative  will  be  at  that  day. 

Faith.  This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of 
Moses,  by  which  he  describeth  the  beast  that  is 
clean.  Lev.  11 ;  Dent.  14.  He  is  such  a  one 
that  parteth  the  hoof,  and  cheweth  the  cud; 
not  that  parteth  the  hoof  only,  or  that  cheweth 
the  cud  only.  The  hare  cheweth  the  cud,  buJ" 
yet  is  unclean,  because  he  parteth  not  the  hoof- 
And  this  truly  resembleth  Talkative :  ^il^e^j^^'^^j.  X 
he  cheweth  the  cud,  he  seeketh  know-  ative!'''''^^^^''" 
ledge ;  he  cheweth  upon  the  word,  but  he  divid- 
eth  not  the  hoof.  He  parteth  not  with  the  way 
of  sinners;  but,  as  the  hare,  he  retaineth  the 
foot  of  the  dog  or  bear,  and  therefore  he  is 
unclean. 

Chr.  You  have  spoken,  for  aught  I  know, 
the  true  gospel  sense  of  these  texts.  And  I 
will  add  another  thing:   Paul  call-  tw™hf^g7tha? 

.,  1     ,1  ,    sound    without 

eth  some  men,  yea,  and  those  great  iife. 
talkers  too,  sounding  brass,  and  tinkling  cym- 
bals, 1  Cor.  13  :1,  3;  that  is,  as  he  expounds 
them  in  another  place,  things  without  life  giv- 
ing sound.  1  Cor.  14:7.  Things  without  life ; 
that  is,  without  the  true  faith  and  grace  of  the 


TALK  ATT  VE'S  ('II A  R  ACTEi? .  2(')l 

gospel;  and,  coiiscMniriitly,  lliiiius  that  slinll 
never  be  placed  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
among  those  that  arc  the  children  of  life-, 
though  their  sound,  hy  their  talk,  be  as  if  it 
were  the  tongue  or  voice  of  an  angel. 

Faith.  Well,  I  was  not  so  fond  of  his  com- 
pany at  first,  but  I  am  as  sick  of  it  now. 
What  shall  we  do  to  be  rid  of  him  ? 

Chr.  Take  my  advice,  and  do  as  I  bid  you, 
and  you  shall  find  that  he  will  soon  be  sick  of 
your  company  too.  except  God  shall  touch  his 
heart,  and  turn  it. 

Faith.  What  would  you  have  me  to  do  ? 

CiiR.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some 
serious  discourse  about  the  power  of  relig- 
ion; and  ask  him  i)lainly,  (when  he  has  ap- 
proved of  it,  for  that  he  will,)  whether  this 
thing  be  set  up  in  his  heart,  house,  or  conver- 
sation. 

Then  Faithful  stepi)ed  forward  again,  and 
said  to  Talkative,  'Come,  what  cheer?  Plow 
is  it  now?"' 

Talk.  Thank  you,  well :  I  thought  we  should 
have  had  a  great  deal  of  talk  by  this  time. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will,  we  will  fall  to  it 
now ;  and  since  you  left  it  with  me  to  state  the 
question,  let  it  be  this:  How  doth  the  saving 


262  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

grace  of  God  discover  itself  when  it  is  in  the 
heart  of  man  ? 

Talk.  I  perceive,  then,  that  our  talk  must 
be  about  the  power  of  things.  Well,  it  is  a 
very  good  question,  and  I  shall  be  willing  to 
answer  you.  And  take  my  answer  ,^^Jf^fJ^,',; 
in  brief,  thus:  First,  where  the  grace  gLl  "'^■■'  '' 
of  God  is  in  the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great 
outcry  against  sin.     Secondly — 

Faith.  Nay,  hold;  let  us  consider  of  one 
at  once.  I  think  you  should  rather  say.  It 
shows  itself  by  inclining  the  soul  to  abhor  its 
sin. 

Talk.  Why,  what  difference  is  there  be- 
tween crying  out  against,  and  abhorring  of  sin  ? 

Faith.  Oh,  a  great  deal.  A  man  may  cry 
out  against  sin  of  policy ;  but  he  cannot  abhor 
it  but  by  virtue  of  a  godly  antipathy  against 
it.  I  have  heard  many  crv  out  against     to  cry  out 

against   sin    no 

sin  in  the  pulpit,  who  can  yet  abide  sign  of  grace. 
it  well  enough  in  the  heart,  house,  and  conver- 
sation. Gen.  39  :  15.  Joseph's  mistress  cried 
out  with  a  loud  voice,  as  if  she  had  been  very 
holy ;  but  she  would  willingly,  notwithstanding 
that,  have  committed  uncleanness  with  him. 
Some  cry  out  against  sin,  even  as  the  mother 
cries  out  against  her  child  in  her  lap,  when  she 


FAITIirrL    AND  TALKATIVK.  2(y.\ 

ciilletli  it  slut  and  iiau.ulity  <;ii-l,  and  then  falls 
to  hugging  and  kissing  it. 

Talk.  You  lie  at  tlie  eatcli,  I  pGrceivo. 

Faith.  No,  not  T;  I  am  oidy  for  setting 
things  right.  But  what  is  tTic  second  thing 
whereby  you  would  prove  a  discovery  of  a 
work  of  grace  in  the  heart  ? 

Talk.  Great  knowledge  of  gospel  mysteries. 

Faith.  This  sign  should  have  been  first :  but, 

Great  know  first  or  last,  it  is  also  false :  for  know- 
ledge no  sign  of 

grace.  Icdgc,  grcat  knowledge,  may  be  ob- 

tained in  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel,  and  jet 
no  work  of  grace  in  the  soul.  Yea,  if  a  man 
have  all  knowledge,  he  may  yet  be  nothing, 
and  so,  consequently,  be  no  child  of  God. 
1  Cor.  13:2.  When  Christ  said,  "Do  you 
know  all  these  things  ?*'  and  the  disciples  had 
answered,  Y^'es,  he  added,  "Blessed  are  ye  if 
ye  do  them."  He  doth  not  lay  the  blessing  in 
the  knowing  of  them,  but  in  the  doing  of  them. 
JowUge!'' '''  For  there  is  a  knowledge  that  is  not 
attended  with  doing:  "He  that  knoweOi  his 
Master's  will,  and  doeth  it  not."  A  man  may 
know  like  an  angel,  and  yet  be  no  Christian; 
therefore  your  sign  of  it  is  not  true.  Indeed, 
to  hiow  is  a  thing  that  i)leaseth  talkers  and 
boasters;  but  to  do,  is  that  which  pleaseth  God. 


264  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS. 

r/  Not  that  the  heart  can  be  good  without  know- 
ledge, for  withont  that  the  heart  is  naught. 
There  are  therefore  two  sorts  of  knowledge — 
knowledge  that  resteth  in  the  bare  speculation 
of  things,  and  knowledge  that  is  accompanied 
with  the  grace  of  faith  and  love,  which  puts  a 

man  upon  doing  even  the  will  of  Grod     True  know- 
ledge attended 

from  the  heart:  the  first  of  these  will  with  endeavors. 
serve  the  talker;  but  without  the  other,  the 
true  Christian  is  not  content.  "Give  me  un- 
derstanding, and  I  shall  keep  thy  law;  yea,  I 
shall  observe  it  with  my  whole  heart."  Psa. 
119:34. 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch  again:  this  is 
not  for  edification. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  please,  propound  an- 
other sign  how  this  work  of  grace  discovereth 
itself  where  it  is. 

Talk.  Not  I,  for  I  see  we  shall  not  agree. 

Faith.  "Well,  if  you  will  not,  will  you  give 
me  leave  to  do  it  ? 

Talk.  You  may  use  your  liberty. 

Faith.  A  work  of  grace  in  the  soul  discov- 
ereth itself,  either  to  him  that  hath  it,  or  to 
standers  b3\ 

To  him  that  hath  it,  thus:  It  gives  him  con- 
viction of  sin,  especially  the  defilement  of  his 


F  A  IT  1 1  F  r  L   A  X  D   T  A  1 .  K  A  T I  V  K .  2G5 

nature,  and  (lie  sin  of  unbelief,  lor  the  sake 
oSrair' ''^"'  <'<■  ^vlli<'ll  he  is  sure  to  be  damned,  if 
he  findeth  not  mercy  at  God's  hand,  by  faith 
in  Jesus  Christ.  This  sight  and  sense  of  things 
worketh  in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for  sin.  Psa. 
38  :  18  ;  Jer.  31 :  19  ;  John  10:8;  Rom.  7  :  24  ; 
Mark  IG  :  16 ;  Gal.  2:16;  Rev.  1:6.  He  find- 
eth, moreover,  revealed  in  him  the  Saviour  of 
the  world,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  closing 
Avith  him  for  life;  at  the  which  he  findeth  hnn- 
gerings  and  thirstings  after  him,  to  which  hun- 
gerings  and  thirstings  the  promise  is  made. 
Now,  according  to  the  strength  or  weakness  of 
his  faith  in  his  Saviour,  so  is  his  joy  and  peace, 
so  is  his  love  to  holiness,  so  are  his  desires  to 
know  him  more,  and  also  to  serve  him  in  this 
world.  But,  though  I  say  it  discovereth  itself 
thus  unto  him,  yet  it  is  but  seldom  that  he  is 
able  to  conclude  that  this  is  a  work  of  grace ; 
because  his  corruptions  now.  and  his  abused 
reason,  make  his  mind  to  misjudge  in  this  mat- 
ter: therefore  in  him  that  hath  this  work  there 
is  required  a  very  sound  judgment,  before  he 
can  with  steadiness  conclude  that  this  is  a  work 
of  grace.  John  16:9;  Gal.  2:15,  16;  Acts 
4:12;  Matt.  5:0;  Rev.- 21 :  G. 
To  others  it  is  thus  discovered: 

P,l.   rr.,^  1  2 


206  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

1.  By  an  experimental  confession  of  his 
faith  in  Christ.  2.  By  a  life  answerable  to 
that  confession :  to  Avit,  a  life  of  holiness — heart 
holiness,  family  holiness,  (if  he  hath  a  family,) 
and  by  conversation  holiness  in  the  world ; 
which  in  the  general  teacheth  him  inwardly  to 
abhor  his  sin,  and  himself  for  that,  in  secret; 
to  suppress  it  in  his  family,  and  to  promote 
holiness  in  the  world:  not  by  talk  only,  as  a 
hypocrite  or  talkative  person  may  do,  but  by 
a  practical  subjection  in  faith  and  love  to  the 
power  of  the  word.  Job  42  : 5,  6  ;  Psa.  50:23; 
Ezek.  20  :  43  ;  30  :  25  ;  Matt.  5:8;  John  14:15; 
Rom.  10  :.10  ;  Phil.  1 :  27  ;  3  :  17-20.  And  now, 
sir,  as  to  this  brief  description  of  the  work  of 
grace,  and  also  the  discovery  of  it,  if  3  on  have 
aught  to  object,  object;  if  not,  then  give  me 
leave  to  propound  to  you  a  second  question. 

Talk.  Nay,  my  part  is  not  now  to  object, 
but  to  hear ;  let  me,  therefore,  have  your  second 
question. 

Faith.  It  is  this:  Do  .you  experience  this 
first  part  of  the  description  of  it;  and  doth 
your  life  and  conversation  testify  the  s\gnof\7Je.°'^ 
same?  Or  standeth  your  religion  in  word  or 
tongue,  and  not  in  deed  and  truth  ?  Pray,  if 
you  incline  to  answer  me  in  this,  say  no  more 


FAITHFUL  AND   TALKATIVE.  iK'J 

tlian  vou  know  tlio  God  abovo  will  say  Amen 
to,  aiul  also  nothing  but  what  your  conscience 
can  justify  you  in ;  for  not  lie  that  commendeth 
liinisclf  is  approved,  l)ut  \vhom  the  Lord  com- 
mendeth. Besides,  to  say  I  am  thus  and  thus, 
when  my  conversation,  and  all  my  neighbors, 
tell  me  I  lie,  is  great  wickedness. 

Then  Talkative  at  first  began  to  blush ;  but, 
recovering  himself,  thus  he  replied:  "You  come 
now  to  experience,  to  conscience,  and  to  God; 
and  to  appeal  to  him  for  justification  of  what 
is  spoken.     This  kind  of  discourse  I  did  not 

Talkative  not  oXDCCt  '    UOr    aiU    I    dispOScd   tO    giVG 
pleased        with      '   1  ' 

Faithfuls ques-  ^^^  ang^yer  to  such  qucstlons,  because 
I  count  not  myself  bound  thereto,  unless  you 
take  upon  you  to  be  a  catecliizer ;  and  though 
you  should  so  do,  yet  I  may  refuse  to  make 
you  my  judge.  But  I  pray,  will  you  tell  me 
why  you  ask  me  such  questions  ?"' 

Faith.  Because  I  saw  you  forward  to  talk. 
The  reason  r^in[  bccausc  I  Ivucw  uot  that  VOU  had 

wliy      Faithtul 

SA^n'"''''' aught  else  but  notion.  Besides,  to 
tell  you  all  the  truth,  I  have  heard  of  you  that 
Faithfuls  plain  you  arc  a  man  whose  religion  lies  in 
T^katlve. ''""  talk,  and  that  your  conversation  gives 
this  your  mouth-profession  the  lie.  They  say 
you  are  a  spot   among  Christians,   and  that 


268  PILORTA['S  PROGRESS. 

rolioioii  faretli  llio  worse  for  your  ungodly  con- 
versation ;  that  some  have  already  stnmbled  at 
yonr  wicked  ways,  and  that  more  are  in  dan- 
ger of  being  destroyed  thereby :  your  religion^ 
and  an  ale-house,  and  covetousness,  and  iin- 
cleanness,  and  swearing,  and  lying,  and  vain 
company  keeping,  etc.,  will  stand  together.  The 
proverb  is  true  of  you  which  is  said  of  a  har- 
lot, to  wit,  "That  she  is  a  shame  to  all  women;" 
so  are  you  a  shame  to  all  professors. 

Talk,  Since  you  are  so  ready  to  take  up 
reports,  and  to  judge  so  rashly  as  iSSku' 
3'ou  do,  I  cannot  but  conclude  you  are  some 
peevish  or  melancholy  man,  not  fit  to  be  dis- 
coursed with ;  and  so  adieu. 

Then  up  came  Christian,  and  said  to  his 
brother,  "I  told  you  how  it  would  happen ;  your 
words  and  his  lusts  could  not  agree.  He  had 
rather  leave  your  company  than  reform  his  life. 
But  he  is  gone,  as  I  said :  let  him  go ;  the  loss  is 
no  man's  but  his  own.  He  has  saved  us  dance^°°'^  "*^ 
the  trouble  of  going  from  him ;  for  he  continuing 
(as  I  suppose  he  will  do)  as  he  is,  would  have 
been  but  a  blot  in  our  company;  besides,  the 
apostle  says,  '  From  such  withdraw  thyself.'  " 

Faith.  But  I  am  glad  we  had  this  little 
discourse  with  him ;    it  may  happen  that  he 


FAlTlIFrL    AX1>   (11  IMSTIAX.  IIGO 

will  lliiiik  of  it  aLiaiu;  liowcvcr.  I  luivc  dealt 
l)laiiily  witli  liiiu.  and  so  am  clear  ot  his  Mood 
if  he  perishelh. 

Cur.  You  did  well  (o  talk  so  plainly  to  him 
as  you  did.  There  is  but  little  of  this  faithful 
dealinp,-  -svith  meu  nowadays,  and  that  uuikes 
religiou  to  stink  so  in  the  nostrils  of  many  as  it 
doth ;  for  they  arc  these  talkative  fools,  whose 
religion  is  only  in  word,  and  who  are  debauched 
and  vain  in  their  conversation,  that  (being  so 
much  admitted  into  the  fellowship  of  the  godly) 
do  puzzle  the  world,  blemish  Christianity,  and 
grieve  the  sincere.  I  wish  that  all  men  would 
deal  with  such  as  you  have  done ;  then  should 
they  either  be  made  more  conformable  to  relig- 
ion, or  the  company  of  saints  would  be  too  hot 
for  them. 

Then  did  Faithful  say, 

"How  Talkative  at  first  lifts  up  his  plumes; 
How  bravely  doth  he  speak!     How  he  presumes 
To  drive  down  all  before  him !     But  so  soon 
As  Faithful  talks  of  heart-work,  like  the  moon 
That's  past  the  full,  into  the  wane  he  goes; 
And  so  will  all  but  he  that  heart-work  knows." 

Thus  they  went  on,  talking  of  wdiat  they 
had  seen  by  the  way,  and  so  made  that  way 
easy,  which  would  otherwise  no  doid)l  have 
been  tedious  to  them,  for  now  they  went  through 
a  wilderness. 


270  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


THE  SIXTH  STAGE. 

Now  when  they  were  got  ahnost  quite  cut 
of  this  wilderness,  Faithful  chanced  to  cast  his 
eye  back,  and  espied  one  coming  after  them, 
and  he  knew  him.  "Oh,"  said  Faithful  to  his 
brother,  "who  comes  yonder?"  Then  Chris- 
tian looked,  and  said,  "It  is  my  good  friend 
Evangelist."  "Aye,  and  my  good  friend  too," 
said  Faithful,  "for  'twas  he  that  set  me  on  the 
way  to  the  gate."  Now  was  Evan-  ovenSrS 
gelist  come  up  unto  them,  and  thus  saluted  them. 

Evan.  Peace  be  Avith  you,  dearly  beloved, 
and  peace  be  to  jouv  helpers. 

Chr.  Welcome,  welcome,  my  good  Evan- 
gelist;  the  si";ht  of  thy  countenance    They  are  giad 
brings  to  my  remembrance  thy  an-  '"'^ 
cient  kindness  and  unwearied  labors  for  my 
eternal  good. 

"And  a  thousand  times  welcome,"  said 
good  Faithful,  "thy  company,  0  sweet  Evan- 
gelist; how  desirable  is  it  to  us  poor  pilgrims." 

Then  said  Evangelist,  "How  hath  it  fared 
with  you,  my  friends,  since  the  time  of  our 
last  parting  ?  What  have  you  met  Avith,  and 
how  have  you  behaved  yourselves  ?" 


EVANCELIST'S   EXHORTATION.  271 

Tlu'll  (Miristiaii  and  Kaillifiil  told  liiiii  of  all 
tilings  that  had  happcnt'd  to  tlicin  in  tlie  way; 
and  how,  and  with  what  diilicnlty,  they  had 
an-ived  to  tliat  ])hR'e. 

'Right  glad  am  I,''  said  Evangelist,  "not 
tion^V.'h'r'"  that  you  have  met  with  trials,  but 
that  you  have  l)eeu  victors,  and  for  that  you 
luave.  notwithstanding  many  weaknesses,  con- 
tinued in  the  way  to  this  very  day. 

"I  say,  right  glad  am  I  of  this  thing,  and 
that  for  mine  own  sake  and  yours:  I  have 
sowed,  and  you  have  reaped;  and  the  day  is 
coming,  when  'both  he  that  soweth,  and  they 
that  reap,  shall  rejoice  together,'  John  4:36; 
that  is,  if  you  hold  out:  for  in  due  season  ye 
shall  reap,  if  ye  faint  not.'  Gal.  0  :  9.  The 
crow^n  is  before  you,  and  it  is  an  incorruptible 
one:  \so  run  that  ye  may  obtain'  it.  1  Cor. 
9  :  24-27.  Some  there  be  that  set  out  for  this 
crown,  and  after  they  have  gone  far  for  it, 
another  comes  in  and  takes  it  from  them: 
'hold  fast,  therefore,  that  you  have;  let  no 
man  take  j'our  crown.'  l\ev.  3  ill.  You  are 
not  yet  out  of  the  gunshot  of  the  devil:  'you 
have  not  resisted  unto  blood,  striving  against 
sin.'  Let  the  kingdom  be  always  before  you, 
and  believe  steadfastly  ccncerning  the  things 


272  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  are  invisible.  Let  nothing  that  is  on  this 
side  the  other  world  get  within  you.  And, 
above  all,  look  well  to  your  own  hearts  and  to 
the  lusts  thereof;  for  they  are  'deceitful  above 
all  things,  and  desperately  wicked.'  Set  your 
faces  like  a  flint ;  you  have  all  power  in  heaven 
and  earth  on  your  side." 

Then  Christian  thanked  him  for  his  exhor- 
tations;  but  told  him  withal,   that    They  do  thank 

him  for  his  ex- 

they  would  have  him  speak  further  iiortations. 
to  them  for  their  help  the  rest  of  the  way ;  and 
the  rather,  for  that  they  well  knew  that  he 
was  a  prophet,  and  could  tell  them  of  things 
that  might  happen  unto  them,  and  also  how 
they  might  resist  and  overcome  them.  To 
which  request  Faithful  also  consented.  So 
Evangelist  began  as  folio weth. 

Evan.  My  sons,  you  have  heard  in  the 
word  of  the  truth  of  the  gospel,  that  w"a7TSes 
you  must  "through  many  tribula- i»''vanfty  ?a?r, 

''  >-j  t/  jijjjj     encourag- 

tions  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heav-  steadiastMss.  *" 
en;"  and  again,  that  "in  every  city,  bonds  and 
afflictions  abide  you ;"  and  therefore  you  can- 
not expect  that  you  should  go  long  on  3'our 
pilgrimage  without  them,  in  some  sort  or  other. 
You  have  found  something  of  the  truth  of  these 
testimonies  upon  you  already,  and  more  will 


VANITY    I'AllJ.  273 

immeiliati'ly  follow;  loi-  now,  as  you  sec,  you 
are  almost  out  of  this  wildci'iiess,  and  tliere- 
Ibre  you  will  soon  eonie  into  a  town  that  you 
will  by  and  by  see  before  3-ou;  and  in  that 
town  you  will  be  hardly  beset  with  enemies, 
who  will  strain  hard  bnt  they  will  kill  you; 
and  be  you  sure  that  one  or  both  of  you  must 
seal  the  testimony  which  you  hold  with  blood; 
but  be  you  faithlul  unto  death,  and  the  King 
He  whose  lot  will  give  you  a  crown  of  life.  He 
to^'utvcr.  win  that  shall    die   there,    althoudi   his 

have  tliL-  better 

01- his  brother.  ^Ip^^Ij  ^^,ju  |j^  unnatural,  and  his 
pain  perhaps  great,  he  will  yet  have  the  better 
of  his  fellow;  not  only  because  he  will  be 
arrived  at  the  celestial  city  soonest,  but  be- 
cause he  will  escape  many  miseries  that  the 
other  will  meet  with  in  the  I'est  of  his  joui'- 
ney.  But  when  you  are  come  to  the  town,  and 
shall  lind  fulfilled  what  T  have  here  related, 
then  rememl^er  your  friend,  and  (juit  yourselves 
like  men,  and  conunit  the  keeping  of  your  souls 
to  God  in  well-doing,  as  unto  a  faithful  Crea- 
tor. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  when  they 
\vere  got  out  of  the  wilderness,  they  presently 
saw  a  town  l)efore  them,  and  the  name  of  that 
town  is  Vamtv;  and  at  the  town  there  is  a  fair 


274  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  • 

kept,  called  Yanity  Fair.  It  is  kept  all  the 
year  long.  It  bcaretli  the  name  of  Vanity 
Fair,  because  the  town  where  it  is  kept  is 
lighter  than  vanity,  Psa.  62  : 9 ;  and  also  be- 
cause all  that  is  there  sold,  or  that  cometh 
thither,  is  vanity ;  as  is  the  saying  of  the  wise, 
"  All  that  cometh  is  vanity.'*  Eccl.  11  :  8 ;  see 
also  Eccl.  1  :  2-14  ;  2  :  11-17  ;  Isa.  40  :  17. 

This  fair  is  no  new-erected  business,  but  a 
thing  of  ancient  standing.  I  will  onwsS""^ 
show  you  the  original  of  it. 

Almost  five  thousand  years  ago  there  were 
pilgrims  walking  to  the  celestial  city,  as  these 
two  honest  persons  are  ;  and  Beelzebub,  Apol- 
lyon,  and  Legion,  with  their  companions,  per- 
ceiving by  the  path  the  pilgrims  made,  that 
their  way  to  the  city  lay  through  this  tow^n  of 
Vanity,  they  contrived  here  to  set  up  a  fair,  a 
fair  wherein  should  be  sold  all  sorts  of  vanity, 
and  that  it  should  last  all  the  year  long.  There- 
fore at  this  fair  are  all  such  mer-  dJJoniSk." 
chandise  sold  as  houses,  lands,  trades,  places, 
honors,  preferments,  titles,  countries,  kingdoms, 
lusts,  pleasures  ;  and  delights  of  all  sorts,  as 
harlots,  wives,  husbands,  children,  masters, 
servants,  lives,  blood,  bodies,  souls,  silver, 
gold,  pearls,  precious  stones,  and  what  not. 


VANITY    FAIR.  275 

And  moreover,  at  tliis  lair  there  is  at  all 
times  to  be  seen  juggliugs,  cheats,  games,  plays, 
fools,  apes,  knaves,  and  rogues,  and  that  of 
every  kind. 

Here  are  to  be  seen  too,  and  that  for  noth- 
ing, thefts,  murders,  adulteries,  false-swearers, 
and  that  of  a  blood-red  color. 

And,  as  in  other  fairs  of  less  moment,  there 
are  the  several  rows  and  streets  under  their 
proper  names,  where  such  and  such  wares  are 
vended ;  so  here,  likewise,  you  have  the  proper 
places,  rows,  streets,  (namely,  countries  and 
kingdoms.)  where  the  wares  of  this  fair  are 
soonest  to  be  found.  Here  is  the  Britain-row, 
thirjaif ''"'the  French-row,  the  Italian-row,  the 
Spanish-row,  the  German-row,  where  several 
sorts  of  vanities  are  to  be  sold.  But,  as  in  other 
fairs,  some  one  commodity  is  as  the  chief  of  all 
the  fair,  so  the  ware  of  Eome  and  her  mer- 
chandise is  greatly  promoted  in  this  fair ;  only 
our  English  nation,  with  some  others,  have 
taken  a  dislike  thereat. 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  celestial 
city  lies  just  through  this  town  where  this  lusty 
fair  is  kept ;  and  he  that  would  go  to  the  city, 
and  yet  not  go  through  this  town,  "must  needs 
go  out  of  the  world."    1  Cor.  4:10.    The  Prince 


276  •         PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

of  princes  himself,  when  here,  went  through 
this  town  to  his  own  country,  and     christ  went 

through       this 

that  upon  a  fair-day  too;  yea,  and,  f''"- 
as  I  think,  it  was  Beelzebub,  the  chief  lord  of 
this  fair,  that  invited  him  to  buy  of  his  vani- 
ties, yea,  would  have  made  him  lord  of  the 
fair,  would  he  but  have  done  him  reverence  as 
he  went  through  the  town.  Yea,  because  he 
was  such  a  person  of  honor,  Beelzebub  had 
him  from  street  to  street,  and  showed  him  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  little  time,  that 
he  might,  if  possible,  allure  that  blessed  One 
to  cheapen  and  buy  some  of  his  vanities ;  but 
he  had  no  mind  to  the  merchandise,    Christ  bought 

nothing  at  the 

and  therefore  left  the  town  without  f'^"' 
laying  out  so  much  as  one  farthing  upon  these 
vanities.      Matt.  4:1-8;  Luke  4:5-8.     This 
fair,   therefore,   is   an  ancient  thing,   of  long 
standing,  and  a  very  great  fair. 

Now  these  pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs 
go  through  this  fair.  Well,  so  they  en^"th'2'f|[r"' 
did ;  but,  behold,  even  as  they  entered  into  the 
fair,  all  the  people  in  the  fair  were    The  fair  in  a 

hubbub     about 

moved,   and   the  town   itself,   as  it  ^^'^'^■ 
were,  in  a  hul^bub  about  them,  and  that  for 
several  reasons:  for. 

First,  the  pilgrims  were  clothed  with  such 


nUBBUB  IN  THE  FAIR.  277 

kind  of  raiim'iit  as  was  diverse  from  the  i-ai- 
ofulehubbur  iiK'iit  of  any  that  traded  in  that  lair. 
The  ])eople,  therefore,  of  the  fair  made  a  great 
gazing  npon  theni:  some  said  they  were  fools; 
some,  they  were  bedlams:  and  some,  they  were 
outlandish  men.     Job  12:1;  1  Cor.  4  :  0. 

Secondly,  and  as  they  wondered  at  their 
The  second  apparel  so  thev  did  likewise  at  their 

cause     of     the  ' 

hubbub.  Speech ;    for  few   could    understand 

what  they  said.  They  naturally  spoke  the  lan- 
guage of  Canaan;  but  they  that  kept  the  fair 
were  the  men  of  this  world:  so  that  fr(jm  one 
end  of  the  fair  to  the  other,  they  seemed  bar- 
barians each  to  the  other.     1  Cor.  2:7,  8. 

Thirdly,  but  that  which  did  not  a  little 
thlhubbur"' amuse  the  merchandisers  was,  that 
these  pilgrims  set  very  light  by  all  their  wares. 
They  cared  not  so  much  as  to  look  upon  them ; 
and  if  they  called  upon  them  to  buy,  they 
would  put  their  fingers  in  their  cars,  and  cry, 
"Turn  away  mine  eyes  from  beholding  vanity,"' 
Psa.  119  :  37,  and  look  upward,  signifying  that 
their  trade  and  traffic  was  in  heaven.  Phil. 
3:20,  21. 

One  chanced,  mockingly,  beholding  the 
carriage  of  the  men,  to  say  unto  them,  '"What 
will  ye  buy?""    Va\[  they,  looking  gravely  upon 


278  PILGRIM'S    PROGKESS. 

him,  said,  "We  buy  the  truth."  Prov.  23  :  23. 
At  that  there  was  an  occasion  taken  ofthTCbbub'^ 
to  despise  the  men  the  more;  some  mock- 
ing, some  taunting,  some  speaking  are'inocked""^' 
reproachfully,  and  some  calling  upon  others  to 
smite  them.  At  last,  things  came  to  a  hub- 
bub and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  insomuch  that 
all  order  was  confounded.  Now  was  word 
presently  brought  to  the  great  one  of  the  fair, 
who  quickly  came  down,  and  deputed  some  of 
his  most  trusty  friends  to  take  those  men  into 
examination  about  whom  the  fair  was  almost 
overturned.  So  the  men  were  brought  to  ex- 
amination; and  they  that  sat  upon  amined.''"' ^''" 
them  asked  them  whence  they  came,  whither 
they  went,  and  what  they  did  there  in  such  an 
unusual  garb.     The  men  told  them  ,ZyVve]  Zna 

,-,  •^        •  1       i  •       whence       they 

they  were  pilgrims  and  strangers  in  came. 
the  world,  and  that  they  were  going  to  their 
own  country,  Avhich  was  the  heavenly  Jerusa- 
lem, Heb.  11  :  13-16;  and  that  they  had  given 
no  occasion  to  the  men  of  the  town,  nor  yet  to 
the  merchandisers,  thus  to  abuse  them,  and  to 
let  them  in  their  journey,  except  it  was  for 
that,  when  one  asked  them  what  they  would 
buy,  they  said  they  would  buy  the  truth.  But 
they  that  were  appointed   to   examine  them 


THE  riLURIMS  rERSECUTP:D.  279 

did  not  believe  them  to  l)c  any  other  than 
beueved""""  "**'  bcdhinis  and  mad,  or  else  such  as 
came  to  i)ut  all  tilings  into  a  ccmfnsion  in  the 
fair.  Therefore  they  took  them  and  beat  them, 
and  besmeared  tliem  witli  dirt,  and  then  j)ut 
in'th'-caga ''"'  them  into  the  cage,  that  they  might 
be  made  a  spectacle  to  all  the  men  of  the  fair. 
There,  therefore,  they  lay  for  some  time,  and 
were  made  the  objects  of  any  man's  sport,  or 
malice,  or  revenge :  the  great  one  of  the  fair 
laun-hino;  still  at  all  that  befell  them.  But  the 
men  being  patient,  and  "not  rendering  railing 
in'lhJ'cag'e'!''"'  for  railing,  but  contrariwise  bless- 
ing," and  giving  good  words  for  bad,  and  kind- 
ness for  injuries  done,  some  men  in  the  fair, 
that  were  more  observing  and  less  prejudiced 
than  the  rest,  began  to  check  and  blame  the 
baser  sort  for  their  continual  abuses  done  by 
them  to  the  men.  They,  therefore,  in  an  angry 
manner  let  fly  at  them  again,  counting  them  as 
bad  as  the  men  in  the  cage,  and  telling  them 
that  they  seemed  confederates,  and  should  be 
made  partakers  of  their  misfortunes.  Tha 
others  replied  that,  for  aught  they  could  see, 
the  men  were  quiet  and  sober,  and  intended 
nobody  any  harm:  and  that  there  were  many 
that  traded  in  their  fair  that  were  more  worthy 


280  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

to  be  put  into  the  cage,  yea,  and  pillory  too, 
than  were  the  men  that  they  had  abused. 
Thus,  after  divers  words  had  passed  on  both 
sides,  (the  men  behaving  themselves  all  the 
while  very  wisely  and  soberly  before  them,) 
they  fell  to  some  blows  among  themselves,  and 
did  harm  one  to  another.  Then  were  these 
two  poor  men  brought  before  their  tKuthorTof 

1  1  1    this        cUsturb- 

examiners  agani,  and  were  charged  ance. 
as  being  guilty  of  the  late  hubbub  that  had 
been  in  the  fair.     So  they  beat  them  pitifully, 
and  hanged  irons  upon  them,  and  led    They  are  led 

.  .  -IT  ji       r>   •       "P    ^'"^    down 

them  ni  chains  up  and  down  the  lair,  the    fair    in 

^  '    chains,     lor     a 

for  an  example  and  terror  to  others,  tenor  to  others. 
lest  any  should  speak  in  their  behalf,  or  join 
themselves  unto  them.  But  Christian  and 
Faithful  behaved  themselves  yet  more  wisely', 
and  received  the  ignominy  and  shame  that  was 
cast  upon  them  with  so  much  meekness  and 
patience,  that  it  won  to  their  side    some  men  of 

■^  the     fair     won 

(though  but  few  in  comparison  of  the  °^"'  ^^  *"^"'- 
rest)  several  of  the  men  in  the  fair.     This  put 
the  other  party  yet  into  a  greater  rage,  inso- 
much that  they  concluded  the  death  of  these 
two  men.     Wherefore  they  threat-     Their  adver- 

^  saries  resolve  to 

ened   that  neither   cage    nor   irons  '^'"  ""^^'"■ 
should  serve  their  turn,  but  that  they  should 


FA  IT  II  FT  L\^   TltlAL.  281 

(lie  ioi-  tlic  iil)iis(^  llicy  had  done,  iiiid  fur  delud- 
ing llio  men  of  {]u\  lair. 
They  arc  again        Tlieii    weTC    tliev    Teiiianded    to 

put     into    "llu'  .  /•!     /.       ji  1 

cape  and aiti;r  tliG  caixe  aQiaiii,  iiiitu  lurtiiei"  order 

wards    brought  '^ 

to  trial.  should   bo    taken    with   them.       So 

they  put  them  in.  and  made  their  feet  fast  in 
the  stocks. 

Here  also  they  called  apiin  to  mind  what 
they  had  heard  from  their  faithful  friend  Iv/an- 
gelist,  and  were  the  more  confirmed  in  their 
Avay  and  suftcrings  l)y  what  he  told  them  wouhl 
happen  to  them.  They  also  now  comforted 
each  other,  that  whose  lot  it  was  to  suffer,  even 
he  should  have  the  best  of  it:  tlierefore  each 
man  secretly  wished  that  he  might  have  that 
preferment.  But  connnitting  themselves  to  the 
all-wise  disposal  of  Him  that  ruleth  all  things, 
with  nuich  content  they  abode  in  the  condition 
in  which  they  were,  until  they  should  be  other- 
wise disposed  of. 

Then  a  convenient  (!me  being  appointed, 
they  brought  them  forth  to  their  trial,  in  order 
to  their  condemnation.  When  the  time  was 
come,  the}'  were  brought  l)efore  their  enemies 
and  arraigned.  The  judge's  name  was  Lord 
Hate-good;  their  indictment  was  one  and  the 
same  in  subslaiicc  thouuh  somewhat  vai'vin^: 


282  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS, 

in  form;  the  contents  whereof  was  this:  "That 
they  were  enemies  to,  and  disturb-  nielit"""  '"''"'^" 
ers  of,  the  trade ;  that  they  had  made  commo- 
tions and  divisions  in  the  town,  and  had  won 
a  party  to  their  own  most  dangerous  opinions, 
in  contem|)t  of  the  law  of  their  prince." 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer,     Faithiui  an- 
swers for  him- 

that  he  had  only  set  himself  against  ^"'^^ 
that  which  had  set  itself  against  Him  that  is 
higher  than  the  highest.  "And,"  said  he,  "as 
for  disturbance,  I  make  none,  being  myself  a 
man  of  peace :  the  parties  that  were  won  to  us, 
were  won  by  beholding  our  truth  and  innocence, 
and  they  are  only  turned  from  the  worse  to  the 
better.  And  as  to  the  king  you  talk  of,  since 
he  is  Beelzebub,  the  enemy  of  our  Lord,  1  defy 
him  and  all  his  angels." 

Then  proclamation  was  made,  that  they 
that  had  aught  to  say  for  their  lord  the  king 
against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  should  forth- 
with appear,  and  give  in  their  evidence.  So 
there  came  in  three  witnesses,  to  wit.  Envy, 
Superstition,  and  Pickthank.  They  were  then 
asked  if  they  knew  the  prisoner  at  the  bar-, 
and  what  they  had  to  say  for  their  lord  the 
King  against  him. 

Then  stood  forth  Envv,  and  said  to  this 


FAITHFUL'S  TIUAL.  283 

effect:  "My  lord,  I  have  known  this  man  a 
Liny  begins,  long  tiiuc,  and  will  attest  npon  my 
oath  before  this  honorable  bench,  that  he  is — "' 
■      Judge.  Hold ;  give  him  his  oath. 

So  they  swore  him.  Then  he  said,  '"My  lord, 
this  man,  notwithstanding  his  phuisible  name, 
is  one  of  the  vilest  men  in  our  country;  he 
neither  regardeth  prince  nor  })eoi)le,  law  nor 
custom,  but  doeth  all  that  he  can  to  j)ossess  all 
men  with  certain  of  his  disloyal  notions,  which 
he  in  the  general  calls  i)rinciples  of  faith  and 
holiness.  And  in  }>articular,  I  heard  him  once 
myself  aflirm  that  Christianity  and  the  cus- 
toms of  our  town  of  Vanity  were  diametricall}' 
opposite,  and  could  not  be  reconciled.  By 
which  saying,  my  lord,  he  doth  at  once  not 
only  condemn"  all  our  laudable  doings,  but  us 
in  the  doing  of  them."' 

Then  did  the  judge  say  to  him,  "Hast  thou 
any  more  to  say  ?'' 

ExvY.  ^ly  lord,  T  could  say  much  more, 
only  I  would  not  be  tedious  to  the  court.  Yet 
if  need  be,  when  the  other  gentlemen  have 
given  in  their  evidence,  rather  than  any  thing 
shall  be  wanting  that  will  dispatch  him,  I  will 
enlarge  my  testimony  against  him. 

So  he  was  bid  to  stand  bv. 


28tt  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Then  they  called  Superstition,  and  bid  him 
look  upon  the  prisoner.  They  also  foiiowf''"""" 
asked  what  he  could  say  for  their  lord  the 
king  against  him.  Then  they  swore  him;  so 
he  began. 

Super.  My  lord,  I  have  no  great  acquaint- 
ance with  this  man,  nor  do  I  desire  to  have  fur- 
ther knowledge  of  him.  However,  this  I  know, 
that  he  is  a  very  pestilent  fellow,  from  some 
discourse  that  I  had  with  him  the  other  day, 
in  this  town ;  for  then,  talking  with  him,  I  heard 
him  say,  that  our  religion  was  naught,  and  sucli 
by  which  a  man  could  by  no  means  please 
God.  Which  saying  of  his,  my  lord,  your  lord- 
ship very  well  knows  what  necessarily  thence 
will  follow,  to  wit,  that  we  still  do  worship  in 
vain,  are  yet  in  our  sins,  and  finally  shall  be 
damned :  and  this  is  that  which  I  have  to  say. 

Then  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say 
what  he  knew  in  the  behalf  of  their  lord  the 
king  against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

Pick.  My  lord,  and  you  gentle-  testimony':""'' 
men  all,  tliis  fellow  I  have  known  of  a  long  time, 
and  have  heard  him  speak  things  that  ought 
not  to  be  spoken;  for  he  hath  railed  on  our 
noble  prince  Beelzebub,  and  hath  spoken  con- 
temptibly of  his  honorable  friends,  whose  names 


FAlTIlFn/S   OEFEXCH.  285 

aro,  llio  lionl  Old  .Man.   iho    Lord  Caiiial   De- 
sins  are  all  Hglit,  llic  Loi'd  Liixurious,  tlic  Lord 

lords,  ami  great      "^      ,  .         .  , 

ones.  Dosii-e-ol-vaiii-glory,   my  old  Lord 

Lechery,  Sir  Ilaviiip;  Greedy,  with  all  the  rest 
of  our  nobility;  and  he  hath  said,  moreover, 
that  if  all  men  were  of  his  mind,  if  |)ossil)le, 
there  is  not  one  of  these  nol)lemen  should  have 
any  longer  a  being  in  this  town.  Besides,  he 
hath  not  been  afraid  to  rail  on  you,  my  lord, 
who  are  now  appointed  to  be  his  judge,  calling 
you  an  ungodly  villain,  with  many  other  such 
like  vilifying  terms,  with  which  he  hath  be- 
spattered most  of  the  gentry  of  our  town. 

When  this  Pickthank  had  told  his  tale,  the 
judge  directed  his  speech  to  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar,  saying,  "Thou  runagate,  heretic,  and  trai- 
tor, hast  thou  heard  what  these  honest  gentle- 
men have  witnessed  against  thee  ?"' 

Faith.  ]\ray  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my 
own  defence  ? 

JiDOK.  Sirrah,  sirrah,  tliou  deservest  to 
live  no  longer,  but  to  lie  slain  immediately 
upon  the  i)laee;  yet,  that  all  men  may  see  our 
gentleness  towards  thee,  let  us  hear  what  thou, 
vile  runagate,  hast  to  say. 
n.]^oll;i!;^:^  Faith.  First  I  say.  then,  in  an- 
swer to  what  ^Fi-.   L]iivy  hath  sitokcn.  T  never 


286  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

said  aiiglit  but  this,  that  what  rule,  or  laws,  or 
custom,  or  people,  Avere  flat  against  the  word 
of  God,  are  diametrically  opposite  to  Chris- 
tianity. If  I  have  said  amiss  in  this,  convince 
me  of  my  error,  and  I  am  ready  here  before 
3^ou  to  make  my  recantation. 

As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition, 
and  his  charge  against  me,  I  said  only  this, 
that  in  the  worship  of  God  there  is  required  a 
divine  faith;  but  there  can  be  no  divine  faith 
without  a  divine  revelation  of  the  will  of  God. 
Therefore,  whatever  is  thrust  into  the  worship 
of  God  that  is  not  agreeable  to  divine  revela- 
tion, cannot  be  done  but  by  a  human  faith; 
which  faith  will  not  be  profitable  to  eternal 
life. 

Third,  as  to  what  ^Ir.  Pickthank  hath  said, 
I  say,  (avoiding  terms,  as  that  I  am  said  to 
rail,  and  the  like,)  that  the  prince  of  this  town, 
with  all  the  rabblement,  his  attendants,  by  this 
gentleman  named,  are  more  fit  for  a  being  in 
hell  than  in  this  town  and  country.  And  so 
the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me. 

Then  the  judge  called  to  the  jury,  (who  all 
this  while  stood  by  to  hear  and  ob-      The  judges 

*'  speech     to     the 

serve,)  "Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  you  J"'"^ 

see  this  man  about  whom  so  great  an  uproar 


THE  .irOCE'S  CHARGE.  287 

bath  boon  made  in  this  town ;  you  liavo  also 
heard  what  these  worthy  gentlemen  have  wit- 
nessed against  him;  also,  you  haye  heaid  his 
reply  and  eonfession  :  it  lieth  now  in  your 
breasts  to  hang  him,  or  save  his  life:  but  yet 
I  think  meet  to  instruct  you  in  our  law. 

"There  Avas  an  act  made  in  the  days  of 
Pharaoh  the  Great,  servant  to  our  prince,  that, 
lest  those  of  a  contrary  religion  should  multi- 
ply and  grow  too  strong  for  him,  their  males 
should  be  thrown  into  the  river.  Exod.  1 :  22. 
There  was  also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of 
Xebuchadnezzar  the  Great,  another  of  his  ser- 
vants, that  whoever  would  not  fall  down  and 
worship  his  golden  image,  should  be  thrown 
into  a  fiery  furnace.  Dan.  3  :  G.  There  was 
also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  that 
whoso  for  some  time  called  ujjon  any  god  but 
him.  should  be  cast  into  the  lion's  den,  Dan. 
G  :  7.  Now,  the  substance  of  these  laws  this 
rel)el  has  broken,  not  only  in  thought,  (which 
is  not  to  be  borne,)  but  also  in  word  and  deed ; 
which  must,  therefore,  needs  be  intolerable. 

"For  that  of  Pharaoh,  his  law  was  made 
upon  a  supposition  to  prevent  mischief,  no 
crime  being  yet  ai)parent;  but  here  is  a  crime 
api)arent.     For  the  second  and  third,  you  see 


288  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

lie  disputetli  against  our  religion ;  and  for  the 
treason  that  he  hath  already  confessed,  he 
deserveth  to  die  the  death." 

Then  went  the  jury  out,  whose  names  were 
Mr.  Blindman,  Mr.  No-good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr. 
Love-lust,  Mr.  Live-loose,  Mr.  Heady,  Mr. 
High-mind,  Mr.  Enmity,  Mr.  Liar,  Mr.  Cruelty, 
Mr.  Hate-light,  and  Mr.  Implacable ;  who  every 
one  gave  in  his  private  verdict  against  him 
among  themselves,  and  afterwards  unanimously 
concluded   to   bring  him    in   guilty  They  conclude 

to  bring  him  in 

before  the  judge.  And  first  among  gunty  of  death. 
themselves,  Mr.  Blindman,  the  foreman,  said, 
"I  see  clearly  that  this  man  is  a  heretic."  Then 
said  Mr.  Xo-good,  "Away  with  such  a  fellow 
from  the  earth."  "Aye,"  said  Mr.  Malice, 
"for  I  hate  the  very  looks  of  him."  Then 
said  Mr.  Love-lust,  "I  could  »ever  endure 
him."  "Nor  I,"  said  Mr.  Live-loose,  "for 
he  would  always  be  condemning  my  way." 
"Hang  him,  hang  him,"  said  Mr.  Heady.  "A 
sorry  scrub,"  said  Mr.  High-mind.  "My  heart 
risetli  against  him,"  said  Mr.  Enmity.  "He 
is  a  rogue,"  said  Mr.  Liar.  "Hanging  is  too 
good  for  him,"  said  Mr.  Cruelty.  "Let  ns 
dispatch  him  out  of  the  way,"  said  Mr.  Hate- 
light.     Then  said  Mr.   Implacable,    "Might  I 


FAITHFUL'S  MARTYRDOM.  289 

have  all  llie  world  given  me,  I  could  not  be 
reconciled  to  him;  therefore  let  us  forthwith 
bring  him  in  guilty  of  death." 

And  so  they  did ;  therefore  he  was  pres- 
ently  condemned  to  be  had  from  the  place 
where  he  was,  to  the  place  from  whence  he 
came,  and  there  to  be  put  to  the  most  cruel 
death  that  could  be  invented. 

They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with 
him  according  to  their  law;  and  first,  they 
scourged  him,  then  they  buffeted  him,  then 
they  lanced  his  flesh  with  knives:  after  that 
they  stoned  him  with  stones,  then  pricked  him 
with  their  swords;  and  last  of  all,  they  burned 
Ii-KaHhiui'"'''  liiiii  to  ashes  at  the  stake.  Thus 
came  Faithful  to  his  end. 

Xow  I  saAV.  that  there  stood  behind  the 
nudtitude  a  chariot  and  a  coui)le  of  horses 
waiting  for  Faithful,  who  (.^o  soon  as  his  ad- 
versaries had  dispatched  him)  was  taken  np 
info  it,  and  straightway  was  carried  up  through 
the  clouds  with  sound  of  trumpet,  the  nearest 
way  to  the  celestial  gate.  But  as  for  Chris- 
tian, he  had  some  respite,  and  was  remanded 
stiii?prisir."r'  back  to  prison:  so  he  there  remain- 
ed for  a  space.  But  He  who  overrules  all 
things,  having  the  power  of  their  I'age  in  hin 

V.l    I'rug.  •  1  3 


290  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

own  hand,  so  wrought  it  about,  that  Christian 
for  that  time  escaped  them,  and  went  his  wa^^ 
And  as  he  went,  he  sang,  saying, 

"Well,  Faithful,  thou  hast  faithfully  profest 
Unto  thy  Lord,  with  whom  thou  shalt  be  blest, 
When  faithless  ones,  with  all  their  vain  delights, 
Are  crying  out  vnider  their  hellish  plights : 
Sing,  Faithful,  sing,  and  let  thy  name  survive ; 
For  though  they  killed  thee,  thou  art  yet  alive." 


BY-ENDS  OVERTAKEN.  2^1 


THE  SEVENTH  STAGE. 

Xow  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian 
went  not  forth  alone ;  for  there  was  one  whose 
Christian  i>as  name  was  Hopeful,  (being  so  made 
panlon'  """  \)j  tli^c  beholding  of  Christian  ami 
Faithful  in  their  words  and  behavior,  in  their 
sufferings  at  the  fair,)  who  joined  himself  unto 
him,  and  entering  into  a  brotherly  covenant, 
told  him  that  he  would  be  his  companion. 
Thus  one  died  to  l)ear  testimony  to  the  truth, 
and  another  rises  out  of  his  ashes  to  be  a  com- 
panion with  Christian  in  his  pilgrimage.  This 
There  are  more  jjoneful    also    told    Christiau,    that 

of   the   men    ot  1 

thc-fairwilllol     ^1^^^.^    ^^,pj.^    j^^.^^^^,    j^Qj.(3    ^f    (hc    UlCU 

in  the  fair  that  would  take  their  time  and 
follow  after. 

So  I  saw,  that  quickly  after  they  were  got 
out  of  the  fair,  they  overtook  one  that  was 
By'l^dr^"**''*'  going  before  them,  whose  name  was 
By-ends;  so  they  said  to  him,  "What  coun- 
tryman, sir;  and  how  far  go  you  this  way?"' 
He  told  them  that  he  came  from  the  town  of 
Fair-speech,  and  he  was  going  to  the  celestial 
city ;  but  told  them  not  his  name. 

"From  Fair-speech?"  said  Christian;  "is 


292  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

there  any  good  that  lives  there  ?''     Proverbs 

26:25. 

"Yes,"  said  By-ends,  "I  hope  so." 
Chr.  Pray,  sir,  what  may  I  call  you? 
By-ends.  I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  and  you 

.  -  ,  .  ,  1   •  „  ^^      T       By  ends  loath   ' 

to  me:  if  you  be  going  this  wa} ,  1  toteiihisname. 
shall  be  glad  of  your  company ;  if  not,  I  must 
be  content. 

'•This  town  of  Fair-speech,"  said  Christian, 
"I  have  heard  of;  and,  as  I  remember,  they 
say  it 's  a  wealthy  place." 

By.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is ;  and 
I  have  very  many  rich  kindred  there. 

Chr.  Pray,  who  are  your  kindred  there,  if 
a  man  may  be  so  bold  ? 

By.  Almost  the  whole  town ;  and  in  par- 
ticular my  Lord  Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time- 
server,  my  Lord  Fair-speech,  from  whose  an- 
cestors that  town  first  took  its  name ;  also  Mr. 
Smooth-man,  Mr.  Facing-both-ways,  Mr.  Any- 
thing; and  the  parson  of  our  parish,  Mr.  Two- 
tongues,  was  my  mother's  own  brother,  by  fa- 
ther's side;  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am 
become  a  gentleman  of  good  quality,  yet  my 
great-grandfather  was  but  a  waterman,  looking 
one  way  and  rowing  another,  and  I  got  most 
of  my  estate  by  the  same  occupation. 


Dl^L'U  LI  :.<!•:    WITH    i;V-KNl)S.  293 

Chr.  Are  you  a  niarricd  man  ? 
By.  Yes,  and  my  wife  is  a  very  virtuous 
The  wife  and  womau,  the  dauo'hter  of  a  virtuous 

kindred  of  By-  " 

ends.  woman:  she  was  my  Lady  Feign- 

ing's  daughter;  therefore  she  came  of  a  very 
honorable  family,  and  is  arrived  to  such  a 
pitch  of  breeding,  that  she  knows  how  to  carry 
it  to  all,  even  to  prince  and  peasant.  "Tis 
true,  we  somewhat  differ  in  religion  from  those 

AVhcreByends  of    thc    StrlctCr   SOrt,    VCt    but    lu    tWO 
diflers  from  oth- 
ers in  religion,    small  points:  First,  we  never  strive 

against   wind   and   tide.      Secondly,    we   are 

always  most  zealous  when  religion  goes  in  his 

silver  slippers;  we  love  much  to  walk  with 

him  in  the  street,  if  the  sun  shines  and  the 

people  applaud  him. 

Then  Christian  stepped  a  little  aside   to 

his  fellow  Hopeful,   saying,    "It  runs  in  my 

mind  that  this  is  one  By-ends  of  Fair-speech ; 

and  if  it  be  he,  we  have  as  very  a  knave  in 

our  company  as  dwelleth  in  all  these  parts."' 

Then  said  Hopeful,   "Ask  him;  methinks  he 

should  not  be   ashamed   of  his   name."      So 

Christian  came  up  with  him  again,  and  said, 

"Sir,  you  talk  as  if  you  knew  something  more 

than  all  the  world  doth ;    and,   if  I  take  not 

my  mark  amiss,  I  deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of 


294  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

you.  Is  not  your  name  Mr.  Bj-ends  of  Fair- 
speech  ?*' 

By.  This  is  not  my  name,  but  indeed  it  is 
a  nickname  that  is  giv^n  me  by  some  that  can- 
not abide  me,  and  J  must  be  content  to  bear  it 
as  a  reproach,  as  other  good  men  have  borne 
theirs  before  me. 

Chr.  But  did  you  never  give  an  occasion 
to  men  to  call  you  by  this  name  ? 

By.  Never,  never.  The  worst  that  ever  I 
did  to  give  them  an  occasion  to  give  go"^  nlmf^ 
me  this  name  was,  that  I  had  always  the  luck 
to  jump  in  my  judgment  with  the  present  way 
of  the  times,  Avhatever  it  was,  and  my  chance 
was  to  get  thereby ;  but  if  things  are  thus  cast 
upon  me,  let  me  count  them  a  blessing;  but 
let  not  the  malicious  load  me  therefore  with 
reproach. 

Chr.  I  thought,  indeed,  that  you  were  the 
man  that  I  heard  of;  and  to  tell  you  what  I 
think,  I  fear  this  name  belongs  to  you  more 
properly  than  you  are  willing  we  should  think 
it  doth. 

By.  Well,  if  you  will  thus  imag-     He  desires  to 

•^  keep    company 

ine,  I  cannot  help  it ;  you  shall  find  ^"^  christian, 
me  a  fair  company-keeper,  if  you  will  still 
admit  me  your  associate. 


BY-ENDS'  COMPANIONS.  295 

Chr.  If  you  will  g-o  with  us,  you  must  go 
against  wind  and  tido;  the  wliich,  1  perceive, 
is  against  your  opinion:  you  must  also  own 
religion  in  his  rags,  as  well  as  when  in  his 
silver  slippers;  and  stand  by  him,  too,  when 
bound  in  irons,  as  well  as  when  he  walketh  the 
streets  with  applause. 

By.  You  must  not  impose,  nor  lord  it  over 
my  faith ;  leave  me  to  my  liberty,  and  let  me 
go  with  you. 

Chk.  Not  a  step  farther,  unless  you  will 
do,  in  what  I  propound,  as  we. 

Then  said  By-ends,  "I  shall  never  desert 
my  old  i)rinciples,  since  they  are  harmless  and 
profitable.  If  I  may  not  go  with  you,  I  must 
thlJp^Tt.  ^"'^  do  as  I  did  before  you  overtook  me, 
even  go  by  myself,  until  some  overtake  me 
that  will  be  glad  of  my  company.*' 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian 
and  Hopeful  forsook  him,  and  kei)t  their  dis- 
tance before  him;  but  one  of  them,  looking 
back,  saw  three  men  following  Mr.  By-ends; 
and  behold,  as  they  came  up  with  him,  he  made 
them  a  very  low  conge;  and  they  also  gave 
him  a  compliment.  The  men's  names  were, 
comU'^ns""'  ^^1'-  riold-the-W(.rld,  :\rr.  Money- 
love,  and  Mr.  Save-all,  men  that  Mr.  Bv-ends 


296  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

had  formerly  been  acquainted  with;  for  in 
their  minority  they  were  school-fellows,  and 
were  taught  by  one  Mr.  Grripeman,  a  school- 
master in  Lovegain,  which  is  a  market-town  in 
the  county  of  Coveting,  in  the  North.  This 
schoolmaster  taught  them  the  art  of  getting, 
either  by  violence,  cozenage,  flattering,  lying, 
or  by  putting  on  a  guise  of  religion ;  and  these 
four  gentlemen  had  attained  much  of  the  art  of 
their  master,  so  that  they  could  each  of  them 
have  kept  such  a  school  themselves. 

Well,  when  they  had,  as  I  said,  thus  saluted 
each  other,  Mr.  Money-love  said  to  Mr.  By- 
ends,  "Who  are  they  upon  the  road  before 
us  ?"  for  Christian  and  Hopeful  were  yet  within 
view. 

By.  They  are  a  couple  of  far-   By  ends' char 

"^  acter  of  the  pil- 

countrymen,  that,  after  their  mode,  g""^- 
are  going  on  pilgrimage. 

Money.  Alas,  why  did  they  not  stay,  that 
we  might  have  had  their  good  company?  for 
they  and  we,  and  you,  sir,  I  hope,  are  all 
going  on  pilgrimage. 

By.  We  are  so,  indeed ;  but  the  men  before 
us  are  so  rigid,  and  love  so  much  their  own 
notions,  and  do  also  so  lightly  esteem  the  opin- 
ions of  others,  that  let  a  man  be  ever  so  godly, 


HV-KNDr^'  COM  PAN  ION  r^.  2i)T 

vet   if  lio  jumps  not  witli  thorn   in  all   tliiii«^-s, 
ilu'V  thrust  him  ([uite  out  of  tlu'ir  (•omi)auy. 

Savk.  That  is  bad  ;  but  we  read  of  some  that 
are  righteous  overmueh,  and  sueh  men's  rigid- 
uess  prevails  with  tluMu  to  jmlge  and  eondenni 
all  but  themselves.  But  I  pray,  what  and  how 
many  were  the  things  wherein  you  differed  ? 

Bv.  Why,  they,  after  their  headstrong  man- 
ner, conclude  that  it  is  their  duty  to  rush  on 
their  journey  all  weathers ;  and  I  am  for  wait- 
ing for  wind  and  tide.  They  are  for  hazarding 
all  for  God  at  a  cla}) ;  and  I  am  for  taking  all 
advantages  to  secure  my  life  and  estate.  They 
are  for  holding  their  notions,  though  all  other 
men  be  against  them ;  but  I  am  for  religion  in 
what  and  so  far  as  the  times  and  my  safety 
will  bear  it.  They  are  for  religion  when  in 
rags  and  contempt ;  but  I  am  for  him  when  he 
walks  in  his  silver  slippers,  in  the  sunshine, 
and  with  applause. 

IIoLD-THE-WouLD.  Ayc,  and  hold  you  there 
still,  good  Mr.  By-ends :  for,  for  my  part,  I  can 
count  him  but  a  fool,  that  having  the  liberty 
to  keep  what  he  has,  shall  be  so  unwise  as  to 
lose  it.  Let  us  be  wise  as  serpents.  It  is  best 
to  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines.  You  see 
how  the  bee  licth  still  in  winter,  and  bestirs 

13^ 


298  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

her  only  when  she  can  have  profit  with  pleas- 
ure. God  sends  sometimes  rain,  and  some- 
times sunshine:  if  they  be  such  fools  to  go 
through  the  first,  yet  let  us  be  content  to  take 
fair  weather  along  with  us.  For  my  part,  I 
like  that  religion  best  that  will  stand  with  the 
security  of  Grod's  good  blessings  upon  us ;  for 
who  can  imagine,  that  is  ruled  by  his  reason, 
since  God  has  bestowed  upon  us  the  good  things 
of  this  life,  but  that  he  would  have  us  keep 
them  for  his  sake  ?  Abraham  and  Solomon 
grew  rich  in  religion ;  and  Job  says  that  a  good 
man  shall  lay  up  gold  as  dust;  but  he  must 
not  be  such  as  the  men  before  us,  if  they  be  as 
you  have  described  them. 

Save.  I  think  that  we  are  all  agreed  in  this 
matter;  and  therefore  there  needs  no  more 
words  about  it. 

Money.  No,  there  needs  no  more  words 
about  this  matter,  indeed ;  for  he  that  believes 
neither  Scripture  nor  reason,  (and  you  see  we 
have  both  on  our  side,)  neither  knows  his  own 
liberty  nor  seeks  his  own  safety. 

By.  My  brethren,  we  are,  as  you  see,  going 
all  on  pilgrimage ;  and  for  our  better  diversion 
from  things  that  are  bad,  give  me  leave  to  pro- 
pound unto  you  this  question. 


MONEY- LOVE'S  ANSWER.  299 

Suppose  a  man,  a  miuistor,  or  a  tradesman, 
etc.,  should  have  an  advantage  lie  before  him 
to  get  the  good  blessings  of  this  life,  yet  so  as 
that  he  can  by  no  means  come  by  them,  except, 
in  appearance  at  least,  he  becomes  extraordi- 
nary zealous  in  some  points  of  religion  that  he 
meddled  not  with  before ;  may  he  not  use  this 
means  to  attain  his  end,  and  yet  be  a  right 
honest  man  ? 

Money.  I  see  the  bottom  of  your  question ; 
and  with  these  gentlemen's  good  leave,  I  will 
endeavor  to  shape  you  an  answer.  And  first, 
to  speak  to  your  question  as  it  concerneth  a 
minister  himself:  suppose  a  minister,  a  worthy 
man,  possessed  but  of  a  very  small  benefice, 
and  has  in  his  eye  a  greater,  more  fat  and 
plump  by  far ;  he  has  also  now  an  opportunity 
of  getting  it,  yet  so  as  by  being  more  studious, 
by  preaching  more  frequently  and  zealously, 
and,  because  the  temper  of  the  people  requires 
it,  by  altering  of  some  of  his  principles ;  for  my 
part,  I  see  no  reason  why  a  man  may  not  do 
this,  provided  he  has  a  call,  aye,  and  more  a 
great  deal  besides,  and  yet  be  an  honest  man. 
For  why  ? 

1 .  His  desire  of  a  greater  benefice  is  law- 
ful,  (this  eaniiut   be  contradicted.)  since  it  is 


300  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

set  before  him  by  Providence ;  so  then  he  may 
get  it  if  he  can,  making  no  question  for  con- 
science' sake. 

2.  Besides,  his  desire  after  that  benefice 
makes  him  more  studious,  a  more  zealous 
preacher,  etc.,  and  so  makes  him  a  better  man, 
3^ea,  makes  him  better  improve  his  parts,  which 
is  according  to  the  mind  of  God. 

3.  Now,  as  for  his  complying  with  the  tem- 
per of  his  people,  by  deserting,  to  serve  them, 
some  of  his  principles,  this  argueth,  first,  that 
he  is  of  a  self-denying  temper;  second,  of  a 
sweet  and  winning  deportment;  and,  third,  so 
more  fit  for  the  ministerial  function. 

4.  I  conclude,  then,  that  a  minister  that 
changes  a  small  for  a  great,  should  not,  for  so 
doing,  be  judged  as  covetous ;  but  rather,  since 
he  is  improved  in  his  parts  and  industry  there- 
by, be  counted  as  one  that  pursues  his  call, 
and  the  opportunity  put  into  his  hand  to  do 
good. 

And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  question, 
which  concerns  the  tradesman  you  mentioned. 
Suppose  such  a  one  to  have  but  a  poor  employ 
in  the  world,  but  by  becoming  religious  he  may 
mend  his  market,  perhaps  get  a  rich  wife,  or 
more  and  far  better  customers  to  his  shop ;  for 


MONEY-LOVE  A  IM'LA  C  DK  H.  :}01 

my  })art.  I  sco  no  reason  but  this  may  be  linv- 
fully  (lone.     For  wliy  ? 

1.  To  become  religions  is  avirtne.  by  what 
means  soever  a  man  becomes  so, 

2.  Xor  is  it  niilawlul  to  get  a  rich  wife,  or 
more  enstom  to  my  shop. 

3.  Besides,  the  man  that  gets  these  by  be- 
coming religious,  gets  that  which  is  good  of 
them  that  are  good,  by  becoming  good  himself; 
so  then,  here  is  a  good  wife  and  good  custom- 
ers and  good  gain,  and  all  these  by  becoming 
religious,  which  is  good:  therefore,  to  become 
religious  to  get  all  these. is  a  good  and  profita- 
ble design. 

This  answer,  thus  made  by  ^Ir.  ^loney-love 
to  ^rr.  By-ends'  (juestion,  was  highly  a})i)lauded 
by  them  all :  wherefore  they  concluded,  upon 
the  whole,  that  it  was  most  wholesome  and 
advantageous.  And  because,  as  they  thought, 
no  man  was  able  to  contradict  it,  and  because 
Christian  and  Hopeful  were  yet  within  call, 
they  jointly  agreed  to  assault  them  with  the 
question  as  soon  as  they  overtook  them,  and 
the  rather,  because  they  had  op])Osed  Mr.  By- 
ends  before.  So  they  called  after  them,  and 
they  stopped  and  stood  still  till  they  came  up 
to  them:   but   thev  concluded,  as   thev  went. 


302  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  not  Mr.  By-ends,  but  old  Mr. .  Hold-the- 
world  should  propound  the  question  to  them, 
because,  as  they  supposed,  their  answer  to  him 
would  be  without  the  remainder  of  that  heat 
that  was  kindled  between  Mr.  By-ends  and 
them  at  their  parting  a  little  before. 

So  they  came  up  to  each  other,  and  after  a 
short  salutation,  Mr.  Hold-the-world  propound- 
ed the  question  to  Christian  and  his  fellow,  and 
then  bid  them  to  answer  if  they  could. 

Then  said  Christian,  ^'  Even  a  babe  in  re- 
ligion may  answer  ten  thousand  such  questions. 
For  if  it  be  unlawful  to  follow  Christ  for  loaves, 
as  it  is,  John  6:26,  how  much  more  abomina- 
ble is  it  to  make  of  him  and  religion  a  stalking- 
horse  to  get  and  enjoy  the  world!  Nor  do  we 
find  an}^  other  than  heathens,  hypocrites,  dev- 
ils, and  wizards,  that  are  of  this  opinion. 

"1.  Heathens:  for  when  Hamor  and  She- 
chem  had  a  mind  to  the  daughter  and  cattle  of 
Jacob,  and  saw  that  there  was  no  way  for  them 
to  come  at  them  but  by  being  circumcised,  they 
said  to  their  companions,  '  If  every  male  of  us 
be  circumcised,  as  they  are  circumcised,  shall 
not  their  cattle,  and  their  substance,  and  every 
beast  of  theirs  be  ours  ?'  Their  daughters  and 
their  cattle  were  that  which  they  sought  to  ob- 


CITRISTIAN'S  ANSWER.  303 

tain,  and  their  religion  the  stalking-horse  they 
made  use  of  to  come  at  them.  I'ead  the  whole 
story,  Gen.  34  :  20-24. 

"2.  The  hypocritical  Pharisees  were  also  of 
this  religion:  long  prayers  were  their  pretence, 
])nt  to  get  widows'  houses  -was  their  intent; 
and  greater  damnation  was  from  God  their 
judgment.     Luke  20  :  4G,  47. 

"3.  Judas  the  devil  was  also  of  this  relig- 
ion :  he  ^vas  religious  for  the  bag,  that  he  might 
be  possessed  of  what  was  put  therein;  l)ut  he 
was  lost,  cast  away,  and  the  very  son  of  per- 
dition. 

"4.  Simon  the  wizard  was  of  this  religion 
too :  for  he  Avould  have  had  the  Holy  Ghost, 
that  he  might  have  got  money  therewith:  and 
his  sentence  from  Peter's  mouth  was  accord- 
ing.    Acts  8:19-22. 

'"o.  'Neither  will  it  go  out  of  my  mind,  but 
that  that  man  who  takes  up  religion  for  the 
world,  will  throw  away  religion  for  the  world ; 
for  so  surely  as  Judas  designed  the  world  in 
becoming  religious,  so  surely  did  he  also  sell 
religion  and  his  Master  for  the  same.  To  an- 
swer the  question,  therefore,  affirmatively,  as 
I  perceive  you  have  done,  and  to  accept  of,  as 
authentic,  such  answer,  is  heathenish,  hypocrit- 


304  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ical,  and  devilish;  and  your  reward  will  be 
according  to  your  works." 

Then  they  stood  staring  one  upon  another, 
Lut  had  not  wherewith  to  answer  Christian. 
Hopeful  also  approved  of  the  soundness  of 
Christian's  answer ;  so  there  was  a  great  silence 
among  them.  Mr.  By-ends  and  his  company 
also  staggered  and  kept  behind,  that  Christian 
and  Hopeful  might  outgo  them.  Then  said 
Christian  to  his  fellow,  "If  these  men  cannot 
stand  before  the  sentence  of  men,  what  will 
they  do  with  the  sentence  of  God?  And  if 
they  are  mute  when  dealt  w^ith  by  vessels  of 
clay,  what  will  they  do  when  they  shall  be 
rebuked  by  the  flames  of  a  devouring  fire  ?" 

Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  outwent  them 
again,  and  went  till  they  came  at  a  delicate 
plain  called  Ease,  where  they  went ..?"''?  ^'*f  *h^* 

I  '  «'  pilgrims  nave  is 

with  much  content;  but  that  plain  we '""''"'*''' 
was  but  narrow,  so  they  were  quickly  got  over 
it.  Now  at  the  farther  side  of  that  plain  was 
a  little  hill  called  Lucre,  and  in  that  hill  a 
silver-mine,  which  some  of  them  that  had  for- 
merly gone  that  way,  because  of  the  rarity  of 
it,  had  turned  aside  to  see ;  but  going  too  near 
the  brim  of  the  pit,  the  ground,  be-  dangero''us'hiii.* 
ing  deceitful  under  them,  broke,  and  they  were 


LUCRE  Un.L.  3U5 

slain:  some  also  had  bci'ii  maiiiUMl  there,  and 
couhl  not,  to  their  dying  day,  be  their  own 
men  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  tliat  a  little  olf 
hiKcre"^  *"'  the  road,  over  against  tlic  silver- 
mine,  stood  Demas  (gentleman-like)  to  call 
chr"uau''"'and  piisscngcFs  to  coHie  and  see;  who 
ii:j|n^{ocome  g^.^    ^^    Christian    and    his    fellow, 

"Ho,  turn  aside  hither,  and  I  Avill  show  you  a 
thing.'' 

Cim.  AVhat  thing  so  deserving  as  to  turn 
us  out  of  the  way  to  see  it? 

Demas.  Here  is  a  silver-mine,  and  some 
digging  in  it  for  treasure;  if  you  will  come, 
with  a  little  pains  you  may  richly  provide  for 
yourselves. 
Hopeful  tempt-        Thcu  Said  Ho])eful,  "Let  us  go 

ert    to   go.    but  i  '  ^ 

Christian  holds  „„„  jj 
him  back.  SCe. 

"Not  I,"  said  Christian:  "I  have  heard  of 
this  ])lace  before  now.  and  how  many  there 
have  been  slain;  and  besides,  that  treasure  is 
a  snare  to  those  that  seek  it,  for  it  hindereth 
them  in  their  pilgrimage." 

Then  Christian  called  to  Demas.  saying,  "Is 
not  the  place  dangerous  ?  Hath  it  not  hindered 
many  in  their  pilgrimage?"     Hosea  9  :  6. 

"Not  very  dangerous,"  said  Demas,  "ex- 


806  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

cept  to  those  that  are  careless ;"  but  withal  he 
blushed  as  he  spoke. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  "Let  us 
not  stir  a  step,  but  still  keep  on  our  way." 

Hope.  I  will  warrant  you,  when  By-ends 
comes  up,  if  he  hath  the  same  invitation  as 
we,  he  will  turn  in  thither  to  see. 

Chr.  No  doubt  thereof,  for  his  principles 
lead  him  that  way,  and  a  hundred  to  one  but 
he  dies  there. 

Then  Demas  called  again,  saying,  "But 
will  you  not  come  over  and  see  ?" 

Then  Christian  roundly  answered,  saying, 
"Demas,  thou  art  an  enemy  to  the  right  ways 
of  the  Lord  of  this  way,  and  hast  been  already 
condemned  for  thine  own  turning  aside,  b}^  one 
of  his  Majesty's  judges,  2  Tim.  4:10;  and  why 
seekest  thou  to  bring  us  into  the  like  condem- 
nation? Besides,  if  we  at  all  turn  aside,  our 
Lord  the  King  will  certainly  hear  thereof,  and 
will  there  put  us  to  shame  vv^here  we  would 
stand  with  boldness  before  him." 

Demas  cried  again,  that  he  also  was  one  of 
their  fraternity ;  and  that  if  they  would  tarry 
a  little,  he  also  himself  would  walk  with  them. 

Then  said  Christian,  "What  is  thy  name? 
Is  it  not  the  same  by  which  I  have  called  thee  ?" 


BY-ENDS  AND  DEMxVS  AGREE.  307 

Demas.  Yes,  my  name  is  Demas ;  l.diu  the 
son  of  Abraham. 

Chr.  I  know  you:  Gehazi  was  your  great- 
grandfather, and  Judas  your  father,  and  you 
have  trod  in  their  stei)s;  it  is  .but  a  devili.^h 
prank  that  thou  usest :  thy  father  was  hanged  for 
a  traitor,  and  thou  deservest  no  better  reward. 
2  Kings  5  :  20-27  ;  Matt.  2G  :  14,  15  ;  27  :  3-5. 
Assure  thyself,  that  when  we  come  to  the  King, 
we  will  tell  him  of  this  thy  behavior. 

Thus  they  went  their  way.  ^ 

By  this  time  By-ends  and  his  companions 
were  come  again  within  sight,  and  they  at  the 
ovfr^lo  Dcnfas'  ^^st  bcck  wcut  ovcr  to  Dcmas.  Now, 
Avhether  they  fell  into  the  pit  by  looking  over 
the  brink  thereof,  or  whether  they  went  down 
to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the 
bottom  by  the  damps  that  commonly  arise,  of 
these  things  I  am  not  certain ;  but  this  I  ob- 
served, that  they  were  never  seen  again  in  the 
way.     Then  sang  Christian, 

"  By-ends  and  silver  Demas  botli  agree  ; 
One  calls,  the  other  runs,  that  he  may  be 
A  sharer  in  his  lucre :  so  these  two 
Take  up  in  this  world,  and  no  farther  go." 

They  see  a        Now  I  saw  that,  just  on  thc  other 

strange    monu  „     ,  .  ,     .  ,,  -i        • 

ment.  side  of  this  plain,  the  pdgrims  came 

to  a  })lace  wlicre  stood  ah  old  monument,  hard 


308  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

by  the  highway-side,  at  the  sight  of  which  they 
were  both  concerned,  because  of  the  strangeness 
of  the  form  thereof;  for  it  seemed  to  them  as  if 
it  had  been  a  woman  transformed  into  the  shape, 
of  a  pillar.  Here,  therefore,  they  stood  look- 
ing and  looking  upon  it,  but  could  not  for  a 
time  tell  what  they  should  make  thereof.  At 
last  Hopeful  espied,  written  above  upon  the 
head  thereof,  a  writing  in  an  unusual  hand; 
but  he  being  no  scholar,  called  to  Christian  (for 
he  was  learned)  to  see  if  he  could  pick  out  the 
meaning:  so  he  came,  and  after  a  little  laying 
of  letters  together,  he  found  the  same  to  be  this, 
"Remember  Lot's  wife."  So  he  read  it  to  his 
fellow;  after  which  they  both  concluded  that 
that  was  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which  Lot's  wife 
was  turned,  for  her  looking  back  with  a  cov- 
etous heart  when  she  was  going  from  Sodom 
for  safety.  Gen.  19  :  26.  Which  sudden  and 
amazing  sight  gave  them  occasion  for  this  dis- 
course. 

Chr.  Ah,  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable 
sight:  it  came  opportunely  to  us  after  the  in- 
vitation which  Demas  gave  us  to  come  over  to 
view  the  hill  Lucre ;  and  had  we  gone  over,  as 
he  desired  us,  and  as  thou  wast  inclined  to  do, 
my  brother,  we  had;  for  aught  I  know,  been 


TlIK    I'l  r,  [-.\n    OF   SAT.T.  30U 

made  like  this  woman  :i  spcclaclc  lor  those 
that  shall  coiiic  artcr  to  Ix'hold. 

ITorK.  1  am  sorry  that  1  was  so  foolish,  aiul 
am  made  to  wonder  that  I  am  not  now  as  Lot'-f; 
wife :  for  wherein  Avas  the  difference  between 
lier  sin  and  mine  ?  She  only  looked  back,  and 
I  had  a  desire  to  go  see.  Let  grace  be  adored, 
and  let  nie  be  ashamed  that  ever  such  a  thing 
should  be  in  my  heart. 

Chr.  Let  ns  take  notice  of  what  we  see 
here,  for  our  help  for  time  to  come.  This 
woman  escaped  one  judgment,  for  she  fell  not 
by  the  destruction  of  Sodom;  yet  she  was  de- 
stroyed l)y  another,  as  we  see:  she  is  turned 
into  a  pillar  of  salt. 

Hope.  True,  and  she  may  be  to  ns  both 
caution  and  example:  caution,  that  we  should 
shun  her  sin,  or  a  sign  of  what  judgment  will 
overtake  such  as  shall  not  be  pi-evented  by  this 
caution;  so  Korah,  Dathan,  and  .Vbiram,  with 
the  two  hundred  and  lifty  men  that  ])erished 
in  their  sin,  did  also  become  a  sign  or  example 
to  others  to  beware.  Xum.  16  :  31,  32 ;  2G  :  9, 
10.  But  above  all,  I  muse  at  one  thing,  to  wit, 
how  Demas  and  his  fellows  can  stand  so  confi- 
dently yonder  to  hxtk  for  that  treas^^•e  which 
this  woman  but  U)V  lookinu'  beliind  her  after, 


310  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

(for  wc  read  not  that  she  stepped  one  foot  out 
of  the  way,)  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt; 
especially  since  the  judgment  which  overtook 
her  did  make  her  an  example  within  sight  of 
where  they  are;  for  they  cannot  choose  but 
see  her,  did  they  but  lift  up  their  eyes. 

Chr.  It  is  a  thing  to  be  wondered  at,  and 
it  argueth  that  their  hearts  are  grown  despe- 
rate in  the  case ;  and  I  cannot  tell  who  to  com- 
pare them  to  so  titl}^,  as  to  them  that  pick 
pockets  in  the  presence  of  the  judge,  or  that 
will  cut  purses  under  the  gallows.  It  is  said 
of  the  men  of  Sodom,  that  they  were  "  sinners 
exceedingly,"  because  they  were  sinners  "be- 
fore the  Lord,"  that  is,  in  his  eyesight,  and 
notwithstanding  the  kindnesses  that  he  had 
showed  them ;  for  the  land  of  Sodom  was  now 
like  the  garden  of  Eden  heretofore.  Gen,, 
13  :  10-13.  This  therefore  provoked  him  the 
more  to  jealousy,  and  made  their  plague  as  hot 
as  the  fire  of  the  Lord  out  of  heaven  could 
make  it.  And  it  is  most  rationally  to  be  con- 
cluded, that  such,  even  such  as  these  are,  that 
shall  sin  in  the  sight,  yea,  and  that  too  in  de- 
spite of  such  exanii)les  that  are  set  continually 
before  them  to  caution  them  to  the  contrary, 
must  be  partakers  of  severest  judgments. 


THE  nivi:n  of  life.  ;ni 

Hope.  Doubtless  thou  luisl  said  tlie  (I'utli: 
but  wliat  a  urtcv  is  it  tliat  noitlior  thou,  but 
especially  J,  am  not  made  myself  this  exam- 
l)le !  This  ministereth  occasion  to  us  to  thaidv 
God,  to  fear  before  him,  and  always  to  reiueiu- 
ber  Lot's  wife. 

I  saw  then  that  they  Avent  on  their  way  to 

A  river.  a  plcasant  river,  which  David  the 
king"  called  "the  river  of  God ;"  but  John,  "the 
river  of  the  water  of  life.''  Psa.  65  :  9 ;  Rev. 
22  : 1 ;  Ezek.  47  : 1-9.  Now  their  way  lay  just 
upon,  the  bank  of  this  river:  here,  therefore, 
Christian  and  his  companion  walked  with  great 
delight;  they  drank  also  of  the  water  of  the 
river,  which  was  pleasant  and  enlivening  to 
their  weary  spirits.  Besides,  on  the  banks  of 
rivir"  ^^'  *'""  this  river,  on  either  side,  were  gi-een 
trees  with  air  manner  of  fruit;  and  the  leaves 

The  fruit  and  thcY   atc    to   prcvcut   surfcits,   and 

.'Caves    of     the 

trees.  otlicr  dlscascs  that  are  incident  to 

those  that  heat  their  blood  by  travel.    On  either 

Ameadow.in  sidc  of  tlic  rlvcr  was  also  a  meadow, 

which  thpy  lie 

downtosieep.  curlouslv  bciiutificd  witli  lilies:  and, 
it  was  green  all  the  year  long.  In  this  meadow 
they  lay  down  and  slept,  for  here  they  might 
lie  down  safely.  Psa.  23  :  2 ;  Isa.  14  :  30.  AVhen 
thev  awoke  thev  Q-athered  auain  of  the  fruit  of 


B12  PILGRIM'S  TROGRESS. 

the  trees,  and  drank  again  of  the  Avater  of  the 
river,  and  then  lay  down  again  to  sleep.  Thus 
they  did  several  days  and  nights.  Then  they 
sing, 

"  Behold  ye  liow  these  crystal  streams  do  ghdo, 
To  comfort  pilgrims  by  the  high-way  side. 
The  meadows  green,  besides  their  fragrant  smell, 
Yield  dainties  for  them ;  and  he  who  can  tell 
What  pleasant  fruit,  yea,  leaves  these  trees  do  yield, 
Will  soon  sell  all,  that  he  may  buy  this  field." 

So  when  they  were  disposed  to  go  on,  (for 
they  were  not  as  yet  at  their  journey's  end,) 
they  ate  and  drank,  and  departed. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  had 
not  journeyed  far,  but  the  river  and  the  way 
for  a  time  parted,  at  which  they  were  not  a 
little  sorry ;  yet  they  durst  not  go  out  of  the 
way.  Now  the  way  from  the  river  was  rough, 
and  their  feet  tender  by  reason  of  their  trav- 
els; so  the  souls  of  the  pilgrims  were  much 
discouraged  because  of  the  way.  Num.  21  :  4. 
Wherefore,  still  as  they  went  on  they  wished 
for  a  better  way.  Now,  a  little  before  them, 
there  was  on  the  left  hand  of  the  o?/^'"^  ""'''" 
road  a  meadow,  and  a  stile  to  go  over  into  it, 
and  that  meadow  is  called  By-path  meadow. 
Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  "If  this  mead- 
ow lieth  along  by  our  way-side,  let 's  go  over 


P.Y-r.\TH    MKADOW.  :^1H 

into  It.'"    TIkmi  lie  went  Id  tlic  slil(>  to  sec.  and 

Ik'IioM.  a   luitli  lay  aloiiu"  l)y  (he  way  on  tlic 

(•lie  tcmpta  ollici'  si(k'  ol"  tlic  Icnco.      "It  is  tic- 

lioii  iiiaki-s  way  , 

lor aiiotiier.      corcling  to  mv  wisli,'  said  Christian ; 
iu>i'(>  is  the  easiest  going;  come,  good  Hope- 
ful, and  let  us  go  over."' 

Hope.  But  how  if  this  j)atli  should  lead  us 
out  of  the  way  ? 

'That  is  not  likely.""  said  Christian.  "Look, 
doth  it  not  go  along  by  the  way-side?"'  So 
Hopeful,  being  persuaded  by  his  fellow,  went 

tiifnrnfay  wi^l  ^^^^''"  ^^^"^  ^^'^1'  ^^^^  ^^^^^^-        ^^heU  thcj 

onh'e  T^y.  ""^  were  gone  over,  and  were  got  into 
the  path,  they  found  it  very  easy  for  their 
feet;  and  withal,  looking  before  them,  they 
espied  a  man  w^alking  as  they  did,  and  his 
name  was  Vain-confidenco ;  so  they  called  after 
him,  and  asked  him  wdiither  that  way  led.  He 
said,  "To  the  celestial  gate."'  "Look,"'  said 
Christian,  "did  not  I  tell  you'so?  hj  this  you 
is'^o^ucideniy  »^i\v  scc  wc  are  right."  So  they 
Itrlngers"  ''"'^^  followcd,  aud  hc  wcut  bcforc  them. 
But  behold,  the  night  came  on.  and  it  grew 
very  dark;  so  that  they  that  went  behind  lost 
the  sight  of  him  that  went  before. 

^He  therefore  that  went  before,  (Vain-confi- 
dence by  name.)   not   seeiipj.-  the   way   before 

Pll  I'r..i  1  .} 


314  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

him,  fell  into  a  deep  pit,  which  was  on  purpose 
there  made  by  the  prince  of  those    a  pit  to  catch 

.  .  the  vainglorious 

grounds,  to  catch  vamglorious  fools  *«*• 
withal,  and  was  dashed  in  pieces  with  his  fall. 
Isa.  9:16. 

Now,  Christian  and  his  fellow  heard  him, 
fall.  So  they  called  to  know  the  matter,  but 
there  was  none  to  answer,  only  they  heard  a 
groaning.  Then  said  Hopeful,  "Where  are 
we  now  ?"  Then  was  his  fellow  silent,  as  mis- 
trusting that  he  had  led  him  out  of  the  way; 
and  now  it  began  to  rain  and  thunder  and 
lighten  in  a  most  dreadful  manner,  and  the 
water  rose  amain. 

Then  Hopeful  groaned  in  himself,    Reasoning 

tween  Christ 

saying,  ' '  Oh  that  I  had  kept  on  my  ^^"^  Hopetui 
way!" 

Chr.  Who  could  have  thought  that  this 
path  should  have  led  us  out  of  the  way  ? 

Hope.  I  was  afraid  on  't  at  the  very  first, 
and  therefore  gave  you  that  gentle  caution.  I 
would  have  spoken  plainer,  but  that  you  are 
older  than  I. 

Chr.  Good  brother,  be  not  of-       christians 

XI  1  ij    repentance    tor 

fended:  1  am  sorry  i  have  brought  leading      his 

■  •^  ~         brother    out  of 

thee  out  of  the  way,  and  that  I  have  *^^  "^^^ 
put  thee  into  such  imminent  danger.     Pray, 


be- 
hristian 


THK  l'IL(ii;iMS  s.\n.  315 

my  ])r()tliei',  foi-pjive  mo ;  1  <li(l  not  do  it  ol"  uii 
evil  intent. 

IIoPK.  Be  comforted,  my  brother,  for  I  for- 
trive  thee ;  and  believe,  too,  that  this  shall  be 
for  our  good. 

Ciiu.  I  am  glad  I  have  with  me  a  merciful 
brother:  but  we  must  not  stand  here;  let  us 
try  to  go  back  again. 

Hope.  But,  good  brother,  let  me  go  be- 
fore. 

Chk.  No,  if  you  please,  let  me  go  first,  that 
if  there  be  any  danger,  I  ma}'  be  first  therein, 
because  by  my  means  we  are  both  gone  out  of 
the  way. 

"No,''  said  Hopeful,  "you  shall  not  go  first, 
for  your  mind  being  troubled  may  lead  you  out 
of  the  way  again."  Then  for  their  encour- 
agement they  heard  the  voice  of  one  saying. 
**Let  thy  heart  be  toward  the  highway,  even 
the  way  that  thou  wentest:  turn  again."'  Jer. 
31:21.  But  b}'  this  time  the  waters  were 
greatly  risen,  by  reason  of  which  the  way  of 
going  back  was  very  dangerous.  Tlien  I  thought 
that  it  is  easier  going  out  of  the  way  wlicn  we 

in  ^'laifglf ''^-  ^^'^  ^^^'  ^^^^^  &^i»o  i'^  when  we  are  out. 
they |o 'back. ^  Yet  tlicv  advcuturcd  to  go  back: 
but  it  was  so  dark,  and  the  fiood  was  so  high, 


BIT)  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  ill  their  going  back  they  had  like  to  have 
been  drowned  nine  or  ten  times. 

Neither  could  the}^  with  all  the  skill  they 
had,  get  again  to  the  stile  that  night.  Where= 
fore  at  last,  lighting  under  a  little    iheysiecpm 

the  grounds  of 

shelter,  they  sat  down  there  till  the  «i=inti>espaii- 
day  broke ;  but  being  weary,  they  fell  asleep. 
Now  there  was,  not  far  from  the  place  where 
they  lay,  a  castle,  called  Doubting  Castle,  the 
owner  whereof  was  Giant  Despair,  and  it  was 
in  his  grounds  they  now  were  sleeping :  where- 
fore he,  getting  up  in  the  morning  early,  and 
walking  up  and  down  in  his  fields,  caught 
Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep  in  his  grounds. 
Then  with  a  grim  and  surly  voice  he  bid  them 
awake,  and  asked  them  whence  they  were,  and 
what  they  did  in  his  grounds.  They  told  him 
they  were  pilgrims,  and  that  they  had  lost 
their  way.  Then  said  the  giant,  "You  have 
this  night  trespassed  on  me  by  tram-    ho  finds  them 

, .  .  1     1      •  1        '"  l"s  grounds, 

phno;  m  and  Ivmsi;  on  my  ^'rounds,  and  carries  them 

i  '^  .         o  ^     o  '    into    Doubting 

and  therefore  you  must  go  along  with  ^'''"^■ 
me."  So  they  were  forced  to  go,  because  he  was 
stronger  than  they.  The}^  also  had  but  little 
to  say,  for  the}"  knew  themselves  in  a  fault. 
The  giant  therefore  drove  them  before  him, 
and  put  them  into  his  castle,  into  a  very  dark 


CIA  NT    DKSl'A  li;.  -Ml 

dungeon,  na^ty  and  stinkinu-  to  the  spirits  of 
The  grievous- these  two  nuMi.      Here,   then,  thev 

nessol' tlifir  im- 

priaonment.  jf^y  f,.,,,,,  AVcdue'Si hi v  ni()rnin<i'  till 
Saturday  night,  \vitli()ut  one  ])it  of  bread  or 
droj)  ol"  drink,  or  light,  or  any  to  ask  how  they 
did:  they  were  therefore  here  in  evil  ease, 
and  were  'far  from  friends  and  aequaintanee. 
Psa.  88  :  18.  Now  in  this  place  Christian  had 
double  sorrow,  because  it  was  through  his  un- 
advised counsel  that  they  were  brought  into 
this  distress. 

Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  wife,  and  her 
name  was  Ditlidence:  so  when  he  was  gone 
to  bed  he  t(»ld  his  wife  what  he  had  done,  to 
wit,  thiit  he  had  taken  a  couple  of  prisoners, 
and  cast  them  into  his  dungeon  for  trespassing 
on  his  grounds.  Then  he  asked  her  also  what 
he  had  best  do  further  to  them.  So  she  asked 
him  what  they  were,  whence  they  came,  and 
whither  they  were  bound,  and  he  told  her. 
Then  she  counselled  him,  that  when  he  arose 
in  the  morning  he  should  beat  them  without 
mercy.  So  when  he  arose,  he  getteth  him  a 
grievous  crab-tree  cudgel,  and  goes  down  into 
the  dungeon  to  them,  and  there  first  falls  to 
rating  of  them  as  if  they  were  dogs,  although 
they  gave  him  never  a  word  of  distaste.    Then 


318  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

lie  falls  upon  them,  and  beats  them  fearfull}^, 
in  such  sort  that  they  were  not  able  Gi^nt^DJ'pai^ 
to  help  themselves,  or  to  turn  them  Si  ''^"^'" 
upon  the  floor.  This  done,  he  withdraws  and 
leaves  them  there  to  condole  their  miser}',  and 
to  mourn  under  their  distress:  so  all  that  day 
they  spent  their  time  in  nothing  but  sighs  and 
bitter  lamentations.  The  next  night,  she,  talk- 
ing with  her  husband  further  about  them,  and 
understanding  that  they  were  yet  alive,  did 
advise  him  to  counsel  them  to  make  away  with 
themselves.  So  when  morning  was  come,  he 
goes  to  them  in  a  surly  manner,  as  before,  and 
perceiving  them  to  bo  very  sore  with  the  stripes 
that  he  had  given  them  the  day  before,  he  told 
them,  that  since  they  were  never  like  Gian?"Despa^ir 
to  come  out  of  that  place,  their  only  kuiThem^e^vls" 
way  would  be  forthwith  to  make  an  end  of 
themselves,  either  with  knife,  halter,  or  poison ; 
"for  why,"  said  he,  "should  you  choose  to  live, 
seeing  it  is  attended  with  so  ifiuch  bitterness?" 
But  they  desired  him  to  let  them  go.  With 
that  he  looked  ugly  upon  them,  and  rushing 
to  them,  had  doubtless  made  an  end  of  them 
himself,  but  that  he  fell  into  one  of  his  fits,  (for 
he  sometimes  in  sunshiny  weather  ume^Sts™''" 
fell  into  fits,)  and  lost  for  a  time  the  use  of 


DISCOURSE  IN   THE  DUNGEON.  319 

his  hands;  whcroibre  he  withdrew,  and  left 
them  as  before  to  consider  what  to  do.  Then 
did  the  prisoners  consult  between  themselves 
whether  it  was  best  to  take  his  counsel  or  no; 
and  thus  they  began  to  discourse. 

"Brother,"  said  Christian,  "what  shall  we 
do  ?  The  life  that  we  now  live  is  miserable. 
For  my  part,  I  know  not  whether  it  is  best  to 
crusheS.''"'"'"  live  thus,  or  to  die  out  of  hand.  My 
soul  chooseth  strangling  rather  than  life,  and 
the  grave  is  more  easy  for  me  than  this  dun- 
geon. Job  7  :  15.  Shall  we  be  ruled  by  the 
giant  ?" 

Hope.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dread- 
ful, and  death  would  be  far  more  welcome  to 
me  than  thus  for  ever  to  abide ;  but  yet  let  us 
consider,  the  Lord  of  the  country  to  which  we 
are  going  hath  said,  "Thou  shalt  do  no  mur- 
der," no,  not  to  another  man's  person;  much 
more,  then,  are  we  forbidden  to  take  his  coun- 
sel to  kill  oursielves.  Besides,  he  that  kills 
another,  can  but  commit  murder  upon  his  body ; 
but  for  one  to  kill  himself,  is  to  kill  body  and 
soul  at  once.  And  moreover,  my  brother, 
thou  talkest  of  ease  in  the  grave;  but  hast 
lomTm.''"™  thou  forgotten  the  hell  whither  for 
certain  the  murderers  pro?  for  "no  murderer 


320  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

liath  eternal  life,"  etc.  And  let  us  consider, 
again,  that  all  the  law  is  not  in  the  hand  of 
Giant  Despair ;  others,  so  far  as  I  can  under- 
stand, have  been  taken  by  him  as  well  as  we, 
and  vet  have  escaped  out  of  his  hands.  Who 
knows  but  that  God  who  made  the  world,  may 
cause  tha,t  Giant  Despair  may  die ;  or  that,  at 
some  time  or  other,  he  may  forget  to  lock  us 
in ;  or  that  he  may  in  a  short  time  have  another 
of  his  fits  before  us,  and  may  lose  the  use  of 
his  limbs  ?  And  if  ever  that  should  come  to 
pass  again,  for  my  part,  I  am  resolved  to  pluck 
up  the  heart  of  a  man,  and  to  try  my  utmost 
to  get  from  under  his  hand,  I  was  a  fool  that 
I  did  not  try  to  do  it  before.  But,  however, 
my  brother,  let  us  be  patient,  and  endure  a 
while:  the  time  may  come  that  may  give  us  a 
happy  release ;  but  let  us  not  be  our  own  mur- 
derers. 

With  these  words  Hopeful  at.  present  did 
moderate  the  mind  of  his  brother;  so  they 
continued  together  in  the  dark  that  day,  in 
their  sad  and  doleful  condition. 

Well,  towards  evening  the  giant  goes  down 
into  the  dungeon  again,  to  see  if  his  prisoners 
had  taken  his  counsel.  But  when  he  came 
there  he  found  them  alive;    and  truly,  alive 


IIOPEFIL  COMFOHTri  CHIUSTIAX.         'V2\ 

was  all:  I'or  now.  what  for  want  of  bread  and 
water,  and  by  loasoii  of  the  wounds  they  re- 
ceived when  he  l)eat  them.  th(\v  eonld  do  little 
but  breathe.  J>ut  I  say  he  loiind  them  alive; 
at  which  he  fell  into  a  grievous  rage,  and  told 
them,  that  seeing  they  had  disobeyed  his  coun- 
sel, it  should  be  worse  with  them  than  if  they 
had  never  been  born. 

At  this  they  trembled  greatly,  and  I  think 
that  Christian  fell  into  a  swoon;  Init  coming  a 
little  to  himself  again,  they  renewed  their  dis- 
course about  the  giant's  counsel,  and  whether 
yet  they  had  best  take  it  or  no.  Now  Chris- 
tian again  seemed  lor  doing  it;  but  Hopeful 
made  his  second  re})ly  as  followeth : 

"M}'  brother,"'  said  iropefui.  •remendjer- 

Hopeiuicom  cst  tliou  uot  liow  valiuut  thou  hast 

b7  caii?ig°^ibr"  been  heretofore  ?      Ai)ollyon  could 


remembrance.      ^^^    ^j.^^g]^     ^|^pp^     ,j,^,.     (_,,,^1,|    .^||    ^hat 

thou  didst  hear,  or  sec,  or  feel,  in  the  valle}' 
of  the  Shadow^  of  Death.  What  hardship,  ter- 
ror, and  amazement  hast  thou  already  gone 
through:  and  art  thou  now  nothing  but  fears? 
Thou  seest  that  I  am  in  the  diuigeon  with  thee, 
a  far  weaker  man  by  nature  than  thou  art. 
Also  this  giant  hath  wounded  me  as  well  as 
thee,  and  hath  also  cut  oft"  the  bread  and  water 


322  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

from  my  mouth,  and  with  thee  I  mourn  without 
the  light.  But  let  us  exercise  a  little  more 
patience.  Remember  how  thou  playedst  the 
man  at  Vanity  Fair,  and  was  neither  afraid  of 
the  chain  nor  cage,  nor  yet  of  bloody  death: 
wherefore  let  us  (at  least  to  avoid  the  shame 
that  it  becomes  not  a  Christian  to  be  found  in) 
bear  up  with  patience  as  well  as  we  can." 

Now  night  being  come  again,  and  the  giant 
and  his  wife  being  in  bed,  she  asked  him  con- 
cerning the  prisoners,  and  if  they  had  taken 
his  counsel:  to  which  he  replied,  "They  are 
sturdy  rogues ;  they  choose  rather  to  bear  all 
hardships  than  to  make  away  with  themselves." 
Then  said  she,  "Take  them  into  the  castle-yard 
to-morrow,  and  show  them  the  bones  and  skulls 
of  those  that  thou  hast  already  dispatched,  and 
make  them  believe,  ere  a  week  comes  to  an 
end,  thou  wilt  tear  them  in  pieces,  as  thou  hast 
done  their  fellows  before  them." 

So  when  the  morning  was  come,  the  giant 
goes  to  them  again,  and  takes  them  into  the 
castle-yard,  and  shows  them  as  his  wife  had 
bidden  him,   ' '  These, "  said  he, ' '  were    on  Saturday 

.  .  the  giant  tlireat- 

pilgrims,  as  you  are,  once,  and  they  ened  that  «hort 

■^      ^  '  "^  '  '  ^     ly  he  would  pull 

trespassed   on  my  grounds,  as  you  ^''''™ ''' p''"'"''- 
have  done ;  and  when  I  thought  fit  I  tore  them 


Tin-:  Ki:v  of  prom  is k.  32a 

ill  pieces;  and  so  within  li'ii  (lavs  I  Mill  do  yon: 
get  yon  down  lo  yoni-  den  auain.  '  And  with 
that  he  beat  them  all  the  way  thither.  They 
ky  therefore  all  day  on  Saturday  in  a  lament- 
able case,  as  before.  Xow  when  night  was 
eome,  and  when  Mrs.  Diffidence  and  her  hus- 
l)and  the  giant  were  got  to  bed,  they  began  to 
renew  their  discourse  of  their  prisoners ;  and 
withal,  the  old  giant  w^ondered  that  he  could 
neither  by  his  blow^s  nor  counsel  bring  them  to 
an  end.  And  with  that  his  wife  replied,  "I 
fear,"  said  she,  "that  they  live  in  hopes  that 
some  will  come  to  relieve  them;  or  that  they 
have  picklocks  about  them,  by  the  means  of 
which  they  hope  to  escape."  "And  sayest  thou 
so,  my  dear?"  said  "the  giant;  "I  will  there- 
fore search  them  in  the  morning." 

Well,  on  Saturday,  about  midnight,  they 
began  to  pray,  and  continued  in  prayer  till 
almost  break  of  day. 

Now,  a  little  before  it  was  day,  good  Chris- 
tian, as  one  half  amazed,  broke  out  into  this 
passionate  speech:  "What  a  fool,"  quoth  he, 
Akeyinchris  "  am  I,  thus  to  Hc  In  a  stinking  dun- 

tian's       bosom, 

?Sns  i;7tTk  geon,  when  I  may  as  well  walk  at 
Castle.  "''  '"^  liberty!  I  have  a  key  in  my  bosom, 
called  Promise,  that  will,  T  am  persuaded,  open 


324  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

any  lock  in  Doubting  Castle."  Then  said  Hope- 
ful, "That  is  good  news;  good  brother,  pluck 
it  out  of  thy  bosom,  and  try.'' 

Then  Christian  pulled  it  out  of  his  bosom, 
and  began  to  try  at  the  dungeon-door,  whose 
bolt,  as  he  turned  the  key,  gave  back,  and  the 
door  flew  open  with  ease,  and  Christian  and 
Hopeful  both  came  out.  Then  he  went  to  the 
outward  door  that  leads  into  the  castle-yard, 
and  with  his  key  opened  that  door  also.  After 
tliat  he  Avent  to  the  iron  gate,  for  that  must  be 
opened  too;  but  that  lock  went  desperately 
hard,  yet  the  key  did  open  it.  Then  they 
thrust  open  the  gate  to  make  their  escape  with 
speed ;  but  that  gate,  as  it  opened,  made  such 
a  creaking  that  it  waked  Giant  Despair,  who 
hastily  rising  to  pursue  his  prisoners,  felt  his 
limbs  to  fail,  for  his  fits  took  him  again,  so  that 
he  could  by  no  means  go  after  them.  Then 
they  went  on,  and  came  to  the  King's  highway, 
and  so  were  safe,  because  they  were  out  of  his 
jurisdiction. 

Now,  when  they  were  gone  over  the  stile, 
they  began  to  contrive  with  themselves  what 
they  should  do  at  that  stile  to  prevent  those 
that  shall  come  after  from  falling  into  the  hands 
of  Giant  Despair.     So  they  consented  to  erect 


Till-:    WAUNINC    riLI.AIt.  325 

there  a  itillar.   and  lo  eiiu'rave  \\\nm   llic  side 
Apiiiarcrect-  thei'eof  lliis   seiiteiicc:     ■"Over    this 

id  ^y  Christian  n       A^ 

and  his  fellow.     ^\^[[^.    [^     {\^q   -^-j|y    (y    Uoilhtlllg    taStlC, 

whieh  is  kept  by  Giant  Despair,  Avho  despisctli 
the  King  of  tlie  celestial  country,  and  seeks  to 
destroy  his  holy  pilgrims."  Many  therefore 
that  followed  after,  read  what  was  written,  and 
escaped  the  danger.  This  done,  they  sang  as 
follows : 

"Out  of  the  way  we  went,  and  then  we  found 
What  'twas  to  tread  upon  forbidden  ground  ; 
And  let  them  that  come  after  have  a  care, 
Lest  heedlessness  makes  them  as  we  to  fare ; 
Lest  they,  for  trespassing,  his  prisoners  are. 
Whose  castle  's  Doubtiujr,  and  whoso  name  "s  Despair." 


326  PILGRIM'S  PnOGRESS. 


THE  EIGHTH  STAGE. 

They  went  then  till  they  came  to  the  Delec- 
table mountains,  which  mountains  bie^mountains''" 
belong  to  the  Lord  of  that  hill  of  which  we 
have  spoken  before.  So  they  Avent  up  to  the 
mountains  to  behold  the  gardens  and  orchards, 

the  vineyards  and  fountains  of  water ;    They  are  re- 
freshed in  the 
where  also  they  drank  and  washed  mountains. 

themselves,  and  did  freely  eat  of  the  vineyards. 
Now,  there  were  on  the  tops  of  these  moun- 
tains shepherds  feeding  their  flocks,  and  they 
stood  by  the  highway-side.  The  pilgrims  there- 
fore went  to  them,  and  leaning  upon  their 
staffs,  (as  is  common  with  weary  pilgrims  when 
they  stand  to  talk  with  any  by  the  shlpherdf  *''" 
way,)  they  asked,  "Whose  Delectable  moun- 
tains are  these ;  and  whose  be  the  sheep  that 
feed  upon  them  ?" 

Shep,  These  mountains  are  Emmanuel's 
land,  and  they  are  within  sight  of  his  city ;  and 
the  sheep  also  are  his,  and  he  laid  down  his 
Jife  for  them.     John  10:11,  15. 

Chr.  Is  this  the  way  to  the  celestial  city  ? 

Shep.  You  are  just  in  your  way. 

Chr.  How  far  is  it  thither  ? 


THE   DELKCTABLE  MOUNTAINS.  327 

SiiEP.  Too  fur  lor  any  but  those  who  shall 
get  thither  indeed. 

CiiR.  Is  the  way  safe,  or  dangerous  ? 

SiiEP.  Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be 
safe,  but  transgressors  shall  fall  therein.  IIos. 
14  :9. 

CiiR.  Is  tliere  in  tliis  place  any  relief  for 
pilgrims  that  are  weary  and  faint  in  the  way  ? 

Shep.  The  Lord  of  these  mountains  hath 
given  us  a  charge  not  to  be  forgetful  to  enter- 
tain strangers,  Heb.  13:2;  therefore  the  good 
of  the  place  is  before  3'ou. 

I  sa^v  also  in  my  dream,  that  when  the  shep- 
herds perceived  that  they  were  wayfaring  men, 
they  also  put  questions  to  them,  (to  which  they 
made  answer  as  in  other  places,)  as,  "AVhence 
came  you  ?"  and,  "How  got  you  into  the  way?" 
and,  "  By  what  means  have  you  so  persevered 
therein?  for  but  few  of  them  that  begin  to  come 
hither,  -do  show^  their  face  on  these  mountains." 
But  when  the  shepherds  heard  their  answers, 
wdcome'ttm.'  bcittg  plcascd  therewith,  they  looked' 
very  lovingly  upon  them,  and  said,  "Welcome 
to  the  Delectable  mountains." 

The  shepherds,  I  say,  whose  names  were 
thJ'heprrr'  Knowledge,  Experience,  Watchful, 
and  Sincere,  took  them  by  the  hand,  and  had 


328  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

them  to  their  tents,  and  made  them  partake  of 
that  which  was  ready  at  present.  They  said, 
moreover,  "We  would  that  you  should  stay 
here  a  while,  to  be  acquainted  with  us,  and 
yet  more  to  solace  yourselves  with  the  good  of 
these  Delectable  mountains."  Then  they  told 
them  that  they  were  content  to  stay.  So  they 
went  to  their  rest  that  night,  because  it  was 
very  late. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  in  the  morn- 
ing the  shepherds  called  up  Christian  and  Hope- 
ful to  walk  with  them  upon  the  mountains.  So 
they  went  forth  with  them,  and  walked  a  while, 
having  a  pleasant  prospect  on  every  side.  Then 
said  the  shepherds  one  to  another,  "Shall  we 
show  these  pilgrims  some  wonders?"  wonders. '''°'^'' 
So  when  they  had  concluded  to  do  it,  they  had 
them  first  to  the  top  of  a  hill  called  o7Err"r°""'''" 
Error,  which  was  very  steep  on  the  farthest 
side,  and  bid  them  look  down  to  the  bottom. 
So  Christian  and  Hopeful  looked  doAvn,  and 
'  saw  at  the  bottom  several  men  dashed  all  to 
pieces  by  a  fall  that  they  had  from  the  top. 
Then  said  Christian,  "What  meaneth  this?" 
The  shepherds  answered,  "Have  you  not  heard 
of  them  that  were  made  to  err,  by  hearkening 
to  Hymeneus  and  Philetus,  as  concerning  the 


MOUNT  CAUTION'.  :'.29 

faitli  of  tlie  ivsuriTction  of  llie  luxly?"  2  Tim. 
2:17.18.  Tliey  answered,  "Yes."  Then  said 
the  sliepherds.  "Those  that  you  see  lie  dashed 
in  i)ieces  at  the  bottom  of  this  mountain  are 
tliey :  and  they  have  continued  to  this  day  un- 
buried,  as  you  see,  for  an  example  to  others  to 
take  heed  how  they  clamber  too  high,  or  how 
they  come  too  near  the  brink  of  this  mountain.' 

Then  I  saw  that  they  had  them  to  the  to}) 
Mountcaution.  of  auothcr  mouutaiu.  and  the  name 
of  that  is  Caution,  and  bid  them  look  afar  off; 
Avhich  when  they  did,  they  perceived,  as  they 
thouo-lit.  several  men  walking-  up  and  down 
among  the  tombs  that  were  there ;  and  they  per- 
ceived that  the  men  were  blind,  because  they 
stuml)led  sometimes  upoii  the  tombs,  and  be- 
cause they  could  not  get  out  from  among  them. 
Then  said  Christian,. "What  means  this?" 

The  shepherds  then  answered,  "Did  you 
not  see,  a  little  below  these  mountains,  a  stile 
that  led  into  a  meadow,  on  the  "left  hand  of 
this  way?'  They  answered,  "Yes."  Tlien 
said  the  shepherds,  "From  that  stile  there  goes 
a  path  that  leads  directly  to  Doubting  Castle, 
which  is  kept  by  Giant  Despair;  and  these 
men,"  pointing  to  them  among  the  tombs,  "came 
once  on  pilgrimage,  as  you  do  now.  even  until 


330  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  came  to  that  same  stile.  And  because 
the  right  way  was  rough  in  that  place,  they 
chose  to  go  out  of  it  into  that  meadow,  and 
there  were  taken  by  Griant  Despair,  and  cast 
into  Doubting  Castle;  where,  after  they  had 
a  while  been  kept  in  the  dungeon,  he  at  last 
did  put  out  their  e3^es,  and  led  them  among 
those  tombs,  where  he  has  left  them  to  wander 
to  this  very  day,  that  the  saying  of  the  wise 
man  might  be  fulfilled:  'He  that  wandereth 
out  of  the  way  of  understanding  shall  remain 
in  the  congregation  of  the  dead.' "  Proverbs 
21:16.  Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  looked 
upon  one  another  with  tears  gushing  out,  but 
yet  said  nothing  to  the  shepherds. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  shepherds 
had  them  to  another  place  in  a  bottom,  where 
was  a  door  on  the  side  of  a  hill;  and  they 
opened  the  door,  and  bid  them  look  in.  They 
looked  in,  therefore,  and  saw  that  within  it 
was  very  dark  and  smoky ;  they  also  thought 
that  they  heard  there  a  rumbling  noise,  as  of 
fire,  and  a  cry  of  some  tormented,  and  that 
they  smelt  the  scent  of  brimstone.  Then  said 
Christian,  "What  means  this  ?"  The  shepherds 
told  them,  "This  is  a  by-way  to  hell,  heu.^^'"''^  *° 
a  way  that  hypocrites  go  in  at ;  namely,  such 


THE  rHRSPHCTIVE-CILASS.  331 

as  si'll  tlit'ir  l)ii-tlii'i,i;lit,  with  Esiui ;  such  as  sell 
thoii-  Master,  with  Judas;  such  as  blasi)henie 
the  gospel,  with  Alexander;  and  that  lie  and 
dissemble,  with  Ananias  and  Sa})i)hira  his  wife."' 

Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  shepherds,  "I 
perceive  that  these  had  on  them,  even  every 
one,  a  show  of  pilgrimage,  as  we  have  now; 
had  they  not?" 

Shep.  Yes,  and  held  it  a  long  time  too. 

Hope.  How  far  might  they  go  on  in  pil- 
grimage in  their  day,  since  they,  notwithstand- 
ing, were  miserably  cast  away  ? 

Shep.  Some  farther,  and  some  not  so  far 
as  these  mountains. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims  one  to  the  other, 
"We  had  need  cry  to  the  Strong  for  strength." 

Shep.  Aye,  and  you  will  have  need  to  use 
it,  when  you  have  it,  too. 

By  this  time  the  pilgrims  had  a  desire  to 
go  forward,  and  the  shepherds  a  desire  they 
should;  so  they  walked  together  towards  the 
end  of  the  mountains.  Then  said  the  shep-- 
herds  one  to  another,  "Let  us  here  show  the 
pilgrims  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city,  if  they 
The  perspec  havc  slvlll  to  loolv  through  our  i)er- 

tiviplassof  the  ,,        rrn  -i        •  1 

shepherds  spective-glass.  Ihe  pilgrims  lov- 
ingly accepted  the  motion :  so  they  had  them 


332  PILGRIM'S   PKOGRESS. 

to  the  top  of  a  high  hill  called  Clear,  and  gave 
them  the  glass  to  look. 

Then  they  tried  to  look;  but  the  remem- 
brance of  that  last  thing  that  the  shepherds 
had  shown  them  made  their  hands  se^lfe  itear^  °^ 
shake,  by  means  of  which  impediment  they 
could  not  look  steadily  through  the  glass ;  yet 
they  thought  they  saw  something  like  the  gate, 
and  also  some  of  the  glory  of  the  place.  Then 
they  went  away,  and  sang, 

"  Thus  by  the  shepherds  secrets  are  revealed, 
Which  from  all  other  men  are  kept  concealed: 
Come  to  the  shepherds  then,  if  you  would  see 
Things  deep,  things  hid,  and  that  mysterious  be." 

When  they  were  about  to  depart,  one  of 
the  shepherds  gave  them  a  note  of  cautitn*''"'^°^'^ 
the  way.  Another  of  them  bid  them  beware 
of  the  Flatterer.  The  third  bid  them  take 
heed  that  they  slept  not  upon  the  Enchanted 
Ground.  And  the  fourth  bid  them  God  speed. 
So  I  awoke  from  my  dream. 


HJ  NORA  NCR   MHT.  333 


THE  NINTH  STAGE. 

And  I  slept,  and  (Iroaincd  again,  and  saw 
<he  same  two  pilgrims  going  down  the  moun- 
tains along  the  highway  towards  the  eity.  Now, 
of ' ■o'i>ceit'"ou^t  '^   ^'^^^^'  below  these  mountains,   on 

of  which   came    .  i  i     iv     i  i       i  •     ^  i       ^  i  i  <■ 

Ignorance.  the  lelt  iiaud.  lictli  tlic  couutry  ol 
Conceit,  from  which  country  there  conies  into 
the  way  in  which  the  ])ilgrims  walked,  a  little 
crooked  lane.  Here  therefore  they  met  with 
a  very  brisk  lad  that  came  out  of  that  countr}', 
Christian  and  aud  his  uamc   was  Ignorance.     So 

Ignorance  have 

some  talk.  Christian  asked  him  from  what  pai'ts 
he  came,  and  whither  he  was  going. 

Ignorance.  Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  country 
that  lieth  off  there,  a  little  on  the  left  hand, 
and  I  am  going  to  the  celestial  city. 

CiiR.  But  how  do  you  think  to  get  in  at 
the  gate?  for  you  may  lind  some  difficulty 
there. 

"As  other  good  people  do."  said  Ignorance. 

CiiR.  But  what  have  you  to  show  at  that 
gate,  that  the  gate  should  be  opened  to  you  ? 

The  grounds  I(JNOR.    I    kuOW    UIV    Lord's    wlll. 

ot    Ignorances 

^°^  and  have  Ijeen  a  good  livei  :  I  pay 


every  man  his  own:    F   pray,  fast,   pay  tithes. 


334  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  give  alms,  and  have  left  my  country  for 
.  whither  I  am  going. 

Chr.  But  thou  camest  not  in  at  the  wick- 
et-gate that  is  at  the  head  of  this  way ;  thou 
camest  in  hither  through  that  same  crooked 
lane,  and  therefore  I  fear,  however  thou  may- 
est  think  of  thyself,  when  the  reckoning-day 
shall  come,  thou  wilt  have  laid  to  thy  charge, 
that  thou  art  a  thief  and  a  robber,  instead  of 
getting  admittance  into  the  city. 

Ign OR.  Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers 
to  me;  I  know  you  not:  be  content    He     teiieth 

every  one  he  is 

to  follow  the  religion  of  your  coun-  butafooi. 
try,  and  I  will  follow  the  religion  of  mine.  I 
hope  all  will  be  well.  And  as  for  the  gate  that 
you  talk  of,  all  the  world  knows  that  it  is  a 
great  way  off  of  our  country.  I  cannot  think 
that  any  man  in  all  our  parts  doth  so  much  as 
know  the  way  to  it;  nor  need  they  matter 
whether  they  do  or  no,  since  we  have,  as  you 
see,  a  fine,  pleasant,  green  lane,  that  comes 
down  from  our  country,  the  next  way  into  the 
way. 

When  Christian  saw  that  the  man  was  wise 
in  his  own  conceit,  he  said  to  Hopeful  whisper- 
ingly,  "There  is  more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of 
him."      Prov.  26  :  12.      And  said,  moreover. 


T  r  U  \  -  A  W  A  Y  -S  D  I-:ST  Pv  r  I'T  1 0  X  .  335 

"  'AVlic'ii  lie  lluit  i.^a  fool  Avalkclli  l)y  tlio  way, 
liis  wisdom  lailctli  liiin,  and  lie  saitli  to  every 
one  that  he  is  a  fool."  Ecel.  10:3.  AVhat,  sliall 
i.u.TfoCi'"'''"' we  talk  fnrtherwith  him,  or  ontgo 
him  at  present,  and  s(^  leave  him  to  think  of 
what  he  hatfi  heard  already,  and  then  sto]) 
again  for  him  afterwards,  and  sec  if  by  degrees 
we  can  do  any  good  to  him  ?"' 
Then  said  Hopeful, 

"Let  Ignorance  a  little  while  now  muse 
On  what  is  saiil,  and  let  him  not  refuse 
Good  counsel  to  embrace,  lest  he  remain 
Still  ignorant  of  what 's  the  chiefest  gain. 
God  saith,  those  that  no  imderstanding  have, 
(Although  he  made  them,)  them  he  will  not  save." 

ITopeful  further  added,  "It  is  not  good. 
I  think,  to  say  so  to  him  all  at  once ;  let  us 
pass  him  by,  if  you  will,  and  talk  to  him  anon, 
even  as  he  is  able  to  bear  it." 

So  they  both  went  on,  and  Ignorance  he 
came  after.  Now,  when  they  had  passed  him 
a  little  way,  they  entered  into  a  very  dark 
lane,  where  they  met  a  man  whom  seven  devils 
had  bound  with  seven  strong  cords,  and  were 
carrying  him  back  to  the  door  that  they  saw 
on  the  side  of  the  hill.  Matt.  12:45;  Prov. 
5  :  22.  Now  good  Christian  began  to  tremble, 
and  so  did  Hopeful  his  companion ;  yet,  as  the 


336  PILGRI^r'S  TROGRESS. 

devils  led  away  the  man,  ^liristiau  looked  to 

see  if  he  knew  him ;  and  he  thought  it  might 

be  one  Tnrn-away,  that  dwelt  in  the  town  of 

Apostasy.     Bnt  he  did  not  perfectly  see  his 

face,  for  he  did  hang  his  head  like  a     The  destruc- 
tion otone  Turn- 
thief  that  is  fonnd ;  but  being  gone  -'^'^-^y- 

past,  Hopeful  looked  after  him,  and  espied  on 
his  back  a  paper  with  this  inscription,  "Wan- 
ton professor,  and  damnable  apostate." 

Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  "Now  I 
call  to  remembrance  that  which  was  told  me 
of  a  thing  that  happened  to  a  good  man  here- 
about. The  name  of  the  man  was  eth  ms'compan- 
Little-faith,  but  a  good  man,  and  he  l^utilfalth'  '' 
dwelt  in  the  town  of  Sincere.  The  thing  was  this. 
At  the  entering  in  at  this  passage,  there  comes 
down  from  Broadway-gate  a  lane  gate.^''"''''^"'"^" 
called  Dead-man's  lane ;  so  called  lane^''"'^ "''''"'' 
because  of  the  murders  that  are  commonly  done 
there;  and  this  Little-faith  going  on  pilgrim- 
age, as  Ave  do  now,  chanced  to  sit  down  there 
and  sleep.  Now  there  happened  at  that  time 
to  come  down  the  lane  from  Broadwaj'-gate 
three  sturdy  rogues,  and  their  names  were 
Faint-heart,  Mistrust,  and  Guilt,  three  broth- 
ers ;  and  they,  espying  Little-faith  where  he 
was.  came  galloping  up  with  speed.     Now  the 


LITTLE-FAITH   IIUUBED.  337 

good  man  was  just  awaked  from  liis  sloop, 
and  was  getting  u\)  to  go  on  his  joui-ney.  fc?o 
they  came  up  all  to  him,  and  with  threatening 
language  bid  him  stand.  At  this  Little-faith 
looked  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and  had  power 
bc.y'bf  Famr  neither  to  fight  nor  fly.  Then  said 
u.TguJu.'"'^'' Faint-heart,  'Deliver  thy  purse;' 
but  he  making  no  haste  to  do  it,  (for  he  was 
hKiver'*and  l^ath  to  loso  his  uiouey,)  Mistrust  ran 
knMk  hira  ^^  ^^  him,  aud  thrusting  his  hand 
into  his  pocket,  pulled  out  thence  a  bag  of  sil- 
ver. Then  he  cried  out,  'Thieves,  thieves!' 
With  that.  Guilt,  with  a  great  club  that  was 
in  his  hand,  struck  Little-faith  on  the  head, 
and  with  that  blow  felled  him  flat  to  the  ground, 
where  he  lay  bleeding  as  one  that  would  bleed 
to  death.  All  this  while  the  thieves  stood 
by.  But  at  last  they,  hearing  that  some  were 
upon  the  road,  and  fearing  lest  it  should  be 
one  Great-grace  that  dwells  in  the  town  of 
Good-confidence,  they  betook  themselves  to 
their  heels,  and  left  this  good  man  to  shift  for 
himself.  Now,  after  a  while,  Little-faith  came 
to  himself,  and  getting  up,  made  shift  to  scram- 
ble on  his  way.     This  was  the  story." 

Hope.  But  did  they  take  from  him  all  (hat 
ever  he  had  ? 

Pil  Prog  15 


338  PILGRIM  8  PKOGltKSS. 

Chr.  No  ;  the  place  where  his  jewels  were 
they  never  ransacked;  so  those  he       uttipfaith 

lost  not  liis  best 

kept  still.  But,  as  I  was  told,  the  """g« 
^ood  man  was  much  afflicted  for  his  loss;  for 
'the  thieves  got  most  of  his  spending-money. 
That  which  they  got  not,  as  I  said,  were  jew- 
els; also,  he  had  a  little  odd  money  left,  but 
scarce  enough  to  bring  him  to  his  journey's 
end.  Nay,  (if  I  was  not  misinform-  forced'"t'o  ^ beg 
ed,)  he  was  forced  to  beg  as  he  went,  *^j]"^  J""™'^^  ^ 
to  keep  himself  alive,  for  his  jewels  he  might 
not  sell;  but  beg  and  do  what  he  could,  he 
went,  as  we  say,  with  many  a  hungry  belly  the 
most  part  of  the  rest  of  the  way.    1  Pet.  4:18. 

Hope.  But  is  it  not  a  wonder  they  got  not 
from  him  his  certificate,  by  which  he  Avas  to 
receive  his  admittance  at  the  celestial  gate  ? 

Chr.  It  is  a  wonder ;  but  they  got  not  that, 
though  they  missed  it  not  through  his^V^t'^thiS 

1  .  p     1  •  /•  1  by  his  own  cun- 

any  good  cunning  ot  his;  lor  he,  ning. 
being  dismayed  by  their  coming  upon  him,  had 
neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  any  thing:  so 
it  was  more  by  good  providence  than  by  his 
endeavor,  that  they  missed  of  that  good  thing. 
2  Tim.  1:12-14;  2  Pet.  2:9. 

Hope.  But  it  must  needs  be  a  comfort  to 
him  that  thev  not  not  this  jewel  from  him. 


I'lTV    Foli    I.ITTI.K-KAITII.  \VM 

CiiR.  It  midit  have  boon  great  comfori  to 
him,  had  he  used  it  as  he  shouUl ;  but  tliey  that 
toUl  me  the  story  said  that  he  made  but  littk' 
use  of  it  all  the  rest  of  the  way.  and  that  be- 
cause of  the  dismay  that  lie  had  in  their  taking 
away  his  money.  Indeed,  he  forgot  it  a  great 
part  of  the  rest  of  his  journey;  and  besides, 
when  at  any  time  it  came  into  his  mind,  and 
he  began  to  be  comforted  therewith,  then  would 
fresh  thoughts  of  his  loss  come  again  upon  him. 
and  these  thoughts  would  swallow  up  all. 

Hope.  Alas,  poor  man,  this  could  not  but 
by  both'  '"""''  ^0  a  great  grief  to  him. 

Chr.  Grief?  aye,  a  grief  indeed!  AVould 
it  not  have  been  so  to  any  of  us,  had  we  been 
used  as  he— to  be  robbed  and  wounded  too,  and 
that  in  a  strange  place,  as  he  was?  It  is  a 
wonder  he  did  not  die  with  grief,  poor  heart. 
I  was  told  that  he  scattered  almost  all  the  rest 
of  the  way  with  nothing  but  doleful  and  bitter 
complaints;  telling  also  to  all  that  overtook 
him.  or  that  he  overtook  in  the  way  as  he 
went,  where  he  was  robbed,  and  how:  who 
they  were  that  did  it.  and  what  he  had  lost; 
how  he  was  wounded,  and  that  he  hardly  es- 
cai)ed  with  life. 

HoPK.  But  it  is  a  wonder  that  his  neeessitv 


340  rTLoniM'P  PR  ogress. 

did  not  put  him  upon  selling  or  pawning  some 
of  his  jewels,  that  he  might  have  wherewith  to 
relieve  himself  in  his  journey. 

Chr.  Thou  talkest  like  one  upon  whose 
head  is  the  shell  to  this  very  day.  pro?etif Ifis  fet 
For  what  should  he  pawn  them  ?  or  ertVspe'kking'' 
to  whom  should  he  sell  them  ?  In  all  that 
country  where  he  was  robbed,  his  jewels  were 
not  accounted  of;  nor  did  he  want  that  relief 
which  could  from  thence  be  administered  to 
him.  Besides,  had  his  jewels  been  missing  at 
the  gate  of  the  celestial  city,  he  had  (and  that 
he  knew  well  enough)  been  excluded  from  an 
inheritance  there,  and  that  would  have  been 
worse  to  him  than  the  appearance  and  villany 
of  ten  thousand  thieves. 

Hope.  Why  art  thou  so  tart,  ni}^  brother  ? 
Esau  sold  his  birthright,  and  that  for  a  mess  of 
pottage,  Heb.  12  :  IG;  and  that  birthright  was 
his  greatest  jewel :  and  if  he,  why  might  not 
Little-faith  do  so  too? 

Chr.  Esau  did  sell  his  birthright  indeed, 
and  so  do  many  besides,  and  by  so        Discourse 

about  Esau  and 

doing  exclude  themselves  from  the  Little  laith. 
chief  blessing,  as  also  that  caitiff  did ;  but  you 
must  put  a  difference  between  Esau  and  Little- 
faith,  and  also  between  their  estates.     Esau's 


LIT  ri.K-KAITirS   FAITH.  341 

birtliri<ihl  was  ty[»ical;  but  Liltk'-raith's  jewels 
byTuTus;'"'''*  were  not  so.  Esau's  belly  was  liis 
god  ;  but  Little-faith's  belly  was  not  so.  Esau's 
want  lay  in  his  fleshly  api)etite ;  Little-faith's 
did  not  so.  Besides,  Esau  could  see  no  further 
than  to  the  fulfilling  of  his  lusts:  "Behold,  I  am 
at  the  point  to  die,"  said  he,  "and  what  profit 
shall  this  birthright  do  to  me?''  Gen. 25:32.  But 
Little-faith,  though  it  was  his  lot  to  have  but  a 
little  faith,  was  by  his  little  faith  kept  from 
such  extravagances,  and  made  to  see  and  prize 
his  jewels  more  than  to  sell  them,  as  Esau  did 
his  birthright.     You  read  not  anywhere  that 

a  little;  therefore  no  marvel,  where  the  flesh 
only  bears  sway,  (as  it  will  in  that  man  where 
no  faith  is  to  resist,)  if  he  sells  his  birthright, 
and  his  soul  and  all,  and  that  to  the  devil  of 
hell ;  for  it  is  with  such  as  it  is  with  the  ass, 
who  in  her  occasion  cannot  be  turned  away, 
Jer.  2  :  24 :  when  their  minds  are  set  upon  their 
lusts,  they  w^ill  have  them,  whatever  they  cost, 
couid^'ni't  *"ihe  I^"t  Little-faith  was  of  another  tem- 
"w'ttoge.  *^^^"'  per;  his  mind  was  on  things  divine: 
his  livelihood  was  upon  things  that  were  spir- 
itual, and  from  above:  therefore  to  what  end 
should  he  that  is  of  such  a  temper  sell  his  jew- 


342  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

cls  (had  there  been  any  that  would  have  bought 
them)  to  fill  his  mind  with  empty  things  ?  Will 
a  man  give  a  penny  to  till  his  belly  with  hay  ; 
or  can  you  persuade  the  turtledove  betwe^cntS" 

,       T  •  T1         xi  o  tlcdove  and  the 

to  live  upon  carrion,  like  the  crow  r  crow. 
Though  faithless  ones  can,  for  carnal  lusts, 
pawn,  or  mortgage,  or  sell  what  they  have, 
and  themselves  outright  to  boot ;  yet  they  that 
have  faith,  saving  faith,  though  but  a  little  of 
it,  cannot  do  so.  Here,  therefore,  my  brother, 
is  thy  mistake. 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  it ;  but  yet  your  se- 
vere reflection  had  almost  made  me  angry. 

Chr.  Why,  I  did  but  compare  thee  to  some 
of  the  birds  that  are  of  the  brisker  sort,  who 
will  run  to  and  fro  in  untrodden  paths  Avith 
the  shell  upon  their  heads :  but  pass  by  that, 
and  consider  the  matter  under  debate,  and  all 
shall  be  well  between  thee  and  me. 

Hope.  But,  Christian,  these  three  fellows,  I 
am  persuaded  in  my  heart,  are  but  a  gers^.P''^"*"''''*^' 
company  of  cowards :  would  they  have  run  else, 
think  you,  as  they  did,  at  the  noise  of  one  that 
was  coining  on  the  road?  Why  did  not  Little- 
faith  pluck  up  a  greater  heart  ?  He  might,  me- 
thinks,  have  stood  one  brush  with  them,  and 
have  vielded  when  there  had  been  no  remedv, 


C  1 1  Tv  I S  T 1  A  N  •  .<   E  X  V  K 11 1  K  N  (  K .  :i4;i 

CiiR.  That  tliov  arc  cowards  many  have  said, 
>-opreathcart  j^j^jj  fe^v  havc  foiiiul  It  so  in  the  time  of 

for  Ciod  whore 

u'Juiu.'""''  trial.  As  lor  a  great  heart,  Little-laith 
had  none:  and  I  j^ereeive  by  thee,  my  brother, 
liadst  thon  been  the  man  concerned,  thon  art 
but  for  a  brush,  and  then  to  yield.    And  verily, 

AVehavcmorc  ^[^qq  (his  Is  tllC  liciullt  of  thv  StonUlcll 
courage     wlu-n  ~ 

^heu'Ta.^r  now  they  are  at  a  distance  from  us, 
should  they  appear  to  thee  as  they  did  to  him. 
they  might  i)ut  thee  to  second  thoughts. 

But  consider,  again,  that  they  are  bui  jour- 
neymen thieves;  they  serve  under  the  king  of 
the  bottomless  pit.  who.  if  need  l^e.  will  come 
to  their  aid  himself,   and  his  voice  is  as  the 
Christian  tells  roaring  of  a  lion.      1  Pet.  5:8.     I 

his  own  cxperi-  *"" 

euce  in  this  case,  mysclf  havc  bccu  cugaged  as  this 
Little-faith  was,  and  I  found  it  a  terrible  thing. 
These  three  villains  set  upon  me,  and  I  begin- 
ning like  a  Christian  to  resist,  they  gave  but  a 
call,  and  in  came  their  master.  I  would,  as 
the  saying  is,  have  given  my  life  for  a  penny, 
but  that,  as  God  would  have  it,  I  was  clothed 
with  armor  of  proof.  Aye.  and  yet,  though  I 
was  so  harnessed,  I  found  it  hard  work  to  quit 
myself  like  a  man:  no  man  can  tell  what  in 
that  combat  attends  us.  but  he  that  hath  been 
in  the  battle 'himself. 


344  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Hope.  Well,  but  they  ran,  you  see,  when 
they  did  but  suppose  that  one  Great-grace  was 
in  the  way. 

Chr.  True,  they  have  often  fled,  both  they 
and  their  master,  when  Great-grace  hath  but 
appeared ;  and  no  marvel,  for  he  is  champfon^*"^  * 
the  King's  champion.  But  I  trow  you  will  put 
some  difference  between  Little-faith  and  the 
King's  champion.  All  the  King's  subjects  are 
not  his  champions;  nor  can  they,  when  tried, 
do  such  feats  of  war  as  he.  Is  it  meet  to  think 
that  a  little  child  should  handle  Goliath  as 
David  did  ;  or  that  there  should  be  the  strength 
of  an  ox  in  a  wren?  Some  are  strong,  some  are 
weak;  some  have  great  faith,  some  have  little: 
this  man  was  one  of  the  weak,  and  therefore 
he  went  to  the  wall. 

Hope.  I  would  it  had  been  Great-grace,  for 
their  sakes. 

Chr.  If  it  had  been  he,  he  might  have 
had  his  hands  full;  for  I  must  tell  you,  that 
though  Great-grace  is  excellent  good  at  his 
weapons,  and  has,  and  can,  so  long  as  he  keeps 
them  at  sword's  point,  do  well  enough  with 
them ;  yet  if  they  get  within  him,  even  Faint- 
heart, Mistrust,  or  the  other,  it  shall  go  hard 
but    they    will    throw    up   his    heels.       And 


L  i;  \  1  A  T  1 1  A  N  S  f^ T  H  K  N  (J  Til.  345 

Avhcii  II  man  is  clown,  you  know,  wliat  can  he 
do? 

Whoso  looks  well  upon  (Treat-grace's  face, 
will  see  those  scars  and  cuts  there  that  shall 
easily  give  demonstration  of  what  I  say.  Yea, 
once  I  heard  that  he  should  say,  (and  that 
when  he  was  in  the  combat,)  AVe  despaired 
even  of  life.  How^  did  these  sturdy  rogues 
and  their  fellows  make  David  groan,  mourn, 
and  roar!  Yea,  Ileman,  Psalm  88,  and  Ileze- 
kiah  too,  though  champions  in  ^heir  days,  were 
forced  to  bestir  them  when  by  these  assaulted ; 
and  yet,  notwithstanding,  they  had  their  coats 
soundly  brushed  by  them.  Peter,  upon  a  time, 
would  go  try  what  he  could  do;  but  though 
some  do  say  of  him  that  he  is  the  prince  of  the 
apostles,  they  handled  him  so  that  they  made 
him  at  last  afraid  of  a  sorry  girl. 

Besides,  their  king  is  at  their  whistle ;  he 
is  never  out  of  hearing;  and  if  at  any  time 
they  be  put  to  the  worst,  he,  if  possible,  comes 
in  to  help  them:  and  of  him  it  is  said,  "The 
stunifnMs.'"*"  ^  sword  of  him  that  layeth  at  him  can- 
not hold ;  the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  haber- 
geon. He  esteemeth  iron  as  straw,  and  brass 
as  rotten  wood.  The  arrow  cannot  make  him 
fly;  sling-stones  are  turned  with  him  into  stub- 
15* 


346  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

ble.  Darts  are  counted  as  stubble ;  he  laugh- 
eth  at  the  shaking  of  a  spear."  Job  41  :  2G-29. 
What  can  a  man  do  in  this  case  ?  It  is  true, 
if  a  man  could  at  every  turn  have  Job's  horse, 
and  had  skill  and  courage  to  ride  him,  he  might 
do  notable  things.  "For  his  neck  is  clothed 
with  thunder.     He  will  not  be  afraid    xne  excellent 

mettle  that  is  in 

as  a  grasshopper:  the  glory  of  his  Jobs  horse. 
nostrils  is  terrible.  He  paweth  in  the  valley, 
and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength ;  he  goeth  on  to 
meet  the  arme(J  men.  He  mocketh  at  fear, 
and  is  not  affrighted ;  neither  turneth  he  back 
from  the  sword.  The  quiver  rattleth  against 
him,  the  glittering  spear  and  the  shield.  He 
swalloweth  the  ground  with  fierceness  and  rage ; 
neither  believeth  he  that  it  is  the  sound  of  the 
trmnpet.  He  saith  among  the  trumpets,  Ha, 
ha!  and  he  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the 
thunder  of  the  captains,  and  the  shoutings." 
Job  39:19-25. 

But  for  such  footmen  as  thee  and  I  are,  let 
us  never  desire  to  meet  with  an  enemy,  nor 
vaunt  as  if  we  could  do  better,  when  we  hear 
of  others  that  have  been  foiled,  nor  be  tickled 
at  the  thoughts  of  our  own  manhood ;  for  such 
commonly  come  by  the  worst  when  tried.  "Wit- 
ness Peter,  of  whom  I  made  mention  before; 


A    lONVUV    IHv^lKAHLK.  347 

hv  would  .swagger,  aye,  he  would:  ho  would,  as 
his  vaiu  mind  prompted  him  to  say,  do  better 
and  stand  more  lor  his  Master  than  all  men : 
but  who  so  foiled  and  run  down  by  those  vil- 
lains as  he  ? 

When,  therefore,  we  hear  that  sueh  robber- 
ies arc  done  on  the  King's  highway,  two  things 
become  us  to  do: 

1.  To  go  out  harnessed,  and  to  be  sure  to 
take  a  shield  with  us:  for  it  was  for  want  of 
that,  that  he  who  laid  so  lustily  at  Leviathan 
could  not  make  him  yield;  for.  indeed,  if  that 
be  wanting,  he  fears  us  not  at  all.  Therefore, 
he  that  had  skill  hath  said,  '"Above  all,  take 
the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able 
to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked." 
Eph.  6:10. 

2.  It  is  good  also,  that  we  desire  of  the 
havcawnvoy"  Klug  a  convoy,  yoa,  that  he  w.ll  go 
with  us  himself.  This  made  David  rejoice 
when  in  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death : 
and  Moses  was  rather  for  dying  where  he 
stood,  than  to  go  one  step  without  his  God. 
Exod.  33  :  lo.  Oh.  my  brother,  if  he  will  bit 
go  along  with  us.  what  need  we  be  afraid  of 
ten  thousands  that  shall  set  themselves  against 
us  ?     Psa.  3  :  0-8  :  27  : 1-3.     But  without  him. 


348  PILGRIM'S  niOGRESS. 

the  proud  helpers  fall  under  the  slain.     Isa. 
10:4. 

I,  for  my  part,  have  been  in  the  fray  before 
now ;  and  though  (through  the  goodness  of  Him 
that  is  best)  I  am,  as  you  see,  alive,  yet  I  can- 
not boast  of  any  manhood.  Glad  shall  I  be  ii 
I  meet  with  no  more  such  brunts,  though  I  fear 
we  are  not  got  beyond  all  danger.  However, 
since  the  lion  and  the  bear  have  not  as  yet 
devoured  me,  I  hope  God  will  also  deliver  us 
from  the  next  uncircumcised  Philistine.  Then 
sang  Christian, 

"Poor  Little-faitli !  hast  been  among  the  thieves? 
Wast  robbed  ?     Remember  this,  whoso  beheves, 
And  get  more  faith ;  then  shall  you  victors  be 
Over  ten  thousand — else  scarce  over  three." 

So  they  went  on,  and  Ignorance  followed. 
They  went^hen  till  they  came  at  a  place  where 
they  saw  a  way  put  itself  into  their  wi^y.'^''^  """^ " 
way,  and  seemed  withal  to  lie  as  straight  as 
the  way  which  they  should  go ;  and  here  they 
knew  not  which  of  the  two  to  take,  for  both 
seemed  straight  before  them;  therefore  here 
they  stood  still  to  consider.  And  as  they  were 
thinking  about  the  way,  behold,  a  man  black  of 
flesh,  but  covered  with  a  very  light  robe,  came 
to  them,  and  asked  them  why  they  stood  there. 
They  answered  the}"  were  going  to  the  celes- 


THE   FLATTER EirS  NET.  349 

tiiil  city,  but  know  not  wliicli  of  those  ways  to 
take.  "Follow  lue,"  said  the  man,  "it  is  thither 
that  I  am  goinir."  So  they  followed  him  in  the 
way  that  but  now  eame  into  the  road,  which  by 
Christian  and  degrees  turned,  and  turned  them  so 

liis    It'llow    de- 

ludcd.  f.^i-  fi.(j,^^  (lie  ^.[^y  that  they  desired 

to  go  to,  that  in  a  little  time  their  faces  were 
turned  away  from  it;  yet  they  followed  him. 
But  b}'  and  by,  before  the}'  were  aware,  he  led 
ila'nc't'*' *''^'""  them  both  within  the  compass  of  a 
net.  in  which  they  were  both  so  entangled  that 
they  knew  not  what  to  do;  and  wit^i  that  the 
white  robe  fell  olf  the  black  man's  ])ack.  Then 
they  saw  where  they  were.  Wherefore  there 
they  lay  crying  some  time,  for  they  could  not 
get  themselves  out. 

Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  '"Xow  do 
ihIirc\)n!iiuo''n'  T  see  myself  in  an  error.  Did  not  the 
shepherds  bid  ns  beware  of  the  Flatterer?  As 
is  the  saying  of  the  wise  man,  so  we  have  found 
it  this  day:  'A  man  that  llattereth  liis  neighbor 
spreadeth  a  net  for  his  feet.' "'     Prov.  29  :  5. 

Hope.  They  also  gave  us  a  note  of  direc- 
tions about  the  way,  for  our  more  sure  finding 
thereof;  but  therein  we  have  also  forgotten  to 
read,  and  have  not  kept  ourselves  from  the 
paths  of  the  destroyer.    Here  David  was  wiser 


350  PILGRIMS    PROGRESS. 

than  we;  for  saith  he,  "Concerning  the  works 
of  men,  by  the  Avord  of  thy  lips  I  have  kept 
me  from  the  paths  of  the  destroyer."  Psa. 
17:4.  Thus  they  lay  bewailing  themselves  in 
the  net.  At  last  they  espied  a  shin-  eomS"to^them 
ing  One  coming  towards  them  with  his'hand""^ '" 
a  whip  of  small  cords  in  his  hand.  When  he 
was  come  to  the  place  where  they  were,  he 
asked  them  whence  they  came,  and  what  they 
did  there.  They  told  him  that  they  were  poor 
pilgrims  going  to  Zion,  but  were  led  out  of 
their  way  by  a  black  man  clothed  in  white, 
who  bid  us,  said  they,  follow  him,  for  he  was 
going  thither  too.  Then  said  he  with  the  whip, 
"It  is  Flatterer,  a  false  apostle,  that  hath  trans- 
formed himself  into  an  angel  of  light.''  Dan. 
11 :  32 ;  2  Cor.  11 :  13,  14.  So  he  rent  the  net, 
and  let  the  men  out.  Then  said  he  to  them, 
"Follow  me,  that  I  may  set  you  in  your  way 
again."  So  he  led  them  back  to  the  way  which 
they  had  left  to  follow  the  Flatterer.  Then  he 
asked  them,  saying,  "Where  did  you  JeVl^^d'^'c'on: 
lie  the  last  night?"  They  said,  "With  fi^ner'^""^^'' 
the  shepherds  upon  the  Delectable  mountains." 
He  asked  them  then  if  they  had  not  of  the 
shepherds  a  note  of  direction  for  the  way. 
Thev  answered,  "Yes."     "But  did  you  not," 


TllK    I'lLClMMS  CIIASTISKD.  :{51 

said  \n\  '•wlit'ii  you  were  at  a  stand,  j)luck  out 
and  read  your  note?"  Tliey  answered,  'Xo.'' 
He  asked  them,  "Why?"  They  said  they  for- 
got. He  asked,  moreover,  if  the  shepherds  did 
not  bid  them  beware  of  the  Fhitterer.  They 
sp'^k';'.'""'""'  answered,  "Yes;  but  we  did  not 
imagine,"  said  they,  "that  this  line-spoken  man 
had  been  he.''     Rom.  IG  :  17,  18. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  command- 
They  are  whip- ed  theui  to  He  dowu ;  whieh  when 

pcd,  and  sent  on 

their  way.  ^hcy  did,  he  ehastised  them  sore,  to 
teach  them  the  good  way  wherein  they  should 
walk,  Deut.  25  :  2  ;  2  Chr.  G  :  27  ;  and  as  he 
chastised  tliem,  he  said,  "As  many  as  I  love, 
I  rebuke  and  chasten;  be  zealous,  therefore, 
and  repent."  Rev.  3  :  19.  This  done,  he  bids 
them  go  on  their  way,  and  take  good  heed  to 
the  other  directions  of  the  shepherds.  So  they 
thanked  him  for  all  his  kindness,  and  went 
softly  along  the  right  way,  singing, 

"  Come  hither,  you  that  walk  along  the  way. 
See  how  the  pilgrims  fare  that  go  astray ; 
Tiiey  catched  are  in  an  entangled  net, 
'Cause  they  good  counsel  lightly  did  forget ; 
'T  is  true,  they  rescued  were ;  but  yet,  you  see. 
They  're  scourged  to  boot:  let  this  your  caution  be." 

Xow,  after  a  while  they  perceived  afar  o(f, 
one  coming  softly  and  alone  all  along  the  high- 


352  PILGRIM'S  rilOGRESS. 

wa}^  to  meet  them.  Then  said  Christian  to  his 
fellow,  "Yonder  is  a  man  with  his  back  tow- 
ards Zion,  and  he  is  coming  to  meet  us." 

Hope.  I  see  him;  let  us  take  heed  to  our- 
selves now,  lest  he  should  prove  a  Flatterer 
also. 

So  he  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  meets'thel^''"'* 
and  at  last  came  up  to  them.  His  name  was 
Atheist,  and  he  asked  them  whither  they  were 
going. 

"We  are  going  to  Mount  Zion,"  said  Chris- 
tian. 

Then  Atheist  fell  into  a  very  great  them.'^^^^^  "* 
laughter. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  your  laughter?" 
said  Christian. 

Atheist.  I  laugh  to  see  what  ignorant  per- 
sons you  are,  to  take  upon  you  so  tedious  a 
journey,  and  yet  are  like  to  have  nothing  but 
your  travel  for  your  pains. 

Chr.  Why,  man,  do  you  think  we  tog^ethJr.''''''"' 
shall  not  be  received  ? 

Atheist.  Eeceived !  there  is  not  such  a  place 
as  you  dream  of  in  all  this  world. 

"But  there  is  in  the  world  to  come,"  said 
Christian. 

Atheist.  When  I  was  at  home  in  my  own 


ATHKISTS   KECEPTIOX.  353 

coiinlrv  I  licard  as  you  now  afiinn.  and  from 
tluit  hearing  went  out  to  see,  and  have  been 
seeking  this  city  these  twenty  years,  but  lind 
no  more  of  it  than  I  did  the  lirst  day  I  set  out. 
Eecl.  10:15;  Jer.  17:15. 

Chu.  AVe  liave  both  heard  and  believe  that 
there  is  such  a  place  to  be  found. 

Atheist.  Had  not  I  when  at  home  be- 
lieved, I  had  not  come  thus  far  to  seek ;  but 
finding  none,  (and  yet  I  should,  had  there  been 
such  a  place  to  be  found,  for  I  have  gone  to 
takcs^  up^'tfs  s<?^'l^  it  farther  than  you,)  I  am  going 
worw"*  '"  *'"  back  again,  and  will  seek  to  refresh 
myself  with  the  things  that  I  then  cast  away 
for  hopes  of  that  which  I  now  see  is  not. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  his  comi)an- 
cfil'h'^'broriaT'  ion,  "  Is  it  true  which  this  man  hath 
said  ?" 

Hope.  Take  heed,  he  is  one  of  the  Flatter- 
c  "uSwer"""  ers.  Remember  what  it  cost  us  once 
already  for  our  hearkening  to  such  kind  of  fel- 
lows. What,  no  Mount  Zion  ?  Did  we  not  see 
Jfrom  the  Delectable  mountains  the  gate  of  the 

Romcn-.brance   Clty  ?      AlsO,   arC  WC  UOt  UOW  tO  Walk 
of  forinir  chas  /••xion/^  r      >~       Ti 

tiscment  a  help  bv  faith  ?   2  (  or.  5  :  / .    Let  us  go  on, 

against   present       "  '- 

temptation.  ]^,g|.     ^^^^     j^jj^,^    ^^.j(]j     ^j^^,     ^^.|jjp    ^^^.p,., 

take  us  again.     You   should  have  taught  me 


354  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  lesson,  which  I  will  sound  you  in  the  ears 
withal:  "Cease,  my  son,  to  hear  the  instruction 
that  causeth  to  err  from  the  words  of  know- 
ledge." Prov.  19:27.  I  say,  my  brother, 
cease  to  hear  him,  and  let  us  believe  to  the 
saving  of  the  soul. 

Chr.  My  brother,  I  did  not  put  the  ques- 
tion to  thee  for  that  I  doubted  of  the  houesrheurl'."' 
truth  of  our  belief  myself,  but  to  prove  thee, 
and  to  fetch  from  thee  a  fruit  of  the  honesty  of 
thy  heart.  As  for  this  man,  I  know  that  he  is 
blinded  by  the  god  of  this  world.  Let  thee 
and  me  go  on,  knowing  that  we  have  belief  of 
the  truth ;  and  no  lie  is  of  the  truth.  1  John 
2  :  21. 

Hope.  Now  do  I  rejoice  in  hope  of  the 
glory  of  God. 

So  they  turned  away  from  the  man;  and 
he,  laughing  at  them,  went  his  way. 

I  then  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on 
until  they  came  into  a  certain  coun-    They  come  ta 

^  the    Enchanted 

try  whose  air  naturally  tended  to  Ground. 
make  one  drowsy,  if  he  came  a  stranger  into 
it.  And  here  Hopeful  began  to  be  tobrirowsf " 
very  dull,  and  heavy  to  sleep:  wherefore  he 
said  unto  Christian,  "I  do  now  begin  to  grow 
so  drowsy  that  I  can  scarcely  hold  open  mine 


THE   ENCIIAXTKl)  GROUND.  355 

eyes;  let  us  lie  down  here,  and  take  one 
na})." 

"By  no  means,"  said  Christian ;  "lest,  sleep- 
wm  awak^.'''"'''  ini?-  ^vc  nevei"  awake  more." 

HoPK.  AVhy.  my  hrother.  sleep  is  sweet  to 
the  laboring  man ;  we  may  be  relVeshcd,  if  we 
take  a  naj). 

Chk.  Do  you  not  I'emember  that  one  of  the 
shepherds  bid  us  beware  of  the  Enchanted 
Ground?  He  meant  by  that,  that  we  should 
beware  of  sleeping:  wherefore  "let  us  not  sleep, 
as  do  others:  but  let  us  wateh  and  be  sober.'' 
1  Thess.  5  :  G. 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  fault :  and 
lie  is  thankful,  had  I  been  here  alone  1  liad  by 
sleeping  run  the  danger  of  death.  1  .^ee  it  is 
true  that  the  wise  man  saith,  "Two  are  better 
than  one."'  Eccl.  4  :  9.  Hitherto  hath  thy  com- 
pany been  my  mercy:  and  thou  shalt  have  a 
good  reward  for  thy  labor. 

"Now,  then,''  said  (  hristian.  'to  prevent 
Good      dis  drow^siness  in  this  place,  let  us  fall 

course  prevent- 

eth  drowsiness,  juto  good  dlscourse." 

"  With  all  my  heart."  said  Hopeful. 

Chr.  Where  shall  we  begin  ? 

Hope.  Where  God  began  with  us.    But  do 

you  begin,  if  you  please. 


356  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  I  will  sing  you  first  this  song : 

"  When  saints  do  sleepy  grow,  let  them  come  hither, 
And  hear  how  these  two  pilgrims  talk  together ; 
Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them  in  any  wise. 
Thus  to  keep  ope  their  drowsy,  slumbering  eyea. 
Saints'  fellowship,  if  it  be  managed  well, 
Keeps  them  awake,  and  that  in  spite  of  hell." 

Then  Christian  began,  and  said,  tJj^^|>^f^"„ff 
"I  will  ask  3^011  a  question.     How  sion'' 
came  you  to  think  at  first  of  doing  what  you 
do  now  ?" 

Hope.  Do  you  mean,  how  I  came  at  first  to 
look  after  the  good  of  my  soul  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  my  meaning. 

PIoPE.  I  continued  a  great  while  in  the  de- 
light of  those  things  which  were  seen  and  sold 
at  our  fair ;  things  which  I  believe  now  would 
have,  had  I  continued  in  them  still,  drowned 
me  in  perdition  and  destruction. 

Chr.  What  things  were  they  ? 

Hope.  All  the  treasures  and  riches  of  the 
world.      Also  I  delighted  much  in    Hopefuls nre 

before     conver- 

rioting,  revelling,  drinking,  swearing,  ^'"n- 
lying,  uncleanness.  Sabbath-breaking,  and  what 
not,  that  tended  to  destroy  the  soul.  But  I 
found  at  last,  by  hearing  and  considering  of 
things  that  are  divine,  which,  indeed,  I  heard 
of  YOU,  as  also  of  beloved  Faithful  that  was 


lioi'r.Kii.s  coNVKiisKix.  ;;:,7 

put  to  (li'atli  for  liis  faith  and  _o-oo<l  livinu-  in 
Vanity  Fair,  that  the  end  of  tlioso  thinus  is 
death,  Rom.  G : 21-23  ;  and  that  for  these  things' 
sake,  the  wrath  of  God  cometh  upon  the  ehil- 
dren  of  disobedience.     Eph.  5  :  G. 

Chr.  And  did  you  presently  fall  under  the 
power  of  this  conviction  ? 

Hope.  No,  I  was  not  willing  presently  to 
firs""^u'tl  his  l^i^<^^^'  the  evil  of  sin,  nor  the  damna- 

eyc,^again=,t  the   ^j^^^^    ^|^^^^    foUoWS    UpOU    thc    COmiuis- 

sion  of  it:  but  endeavored,  when  my  mind  at 
first  began  to  be  shaken  with  the  word,  to  shut 
mine  eyes  against  the  light  thereof. 

Cur.  But  what  was  the  cause  of  your  carry- 
ing of  it  thus  to  the  first  workings  of  God's 
blessed  Spirit  upon  you? 

Hope.  The  causes  were,  first,  I  was  igno- 
rant that  this  was  the  work  of  God  u[)Ou  me. 
Reasons   for  I  ucvcr  thouglit  tluit  bv  awakcuings 

resisting         tlie  '^  ' 

light.  fQp  gjij^  Q-Q(]  r^i  fiY^i  begins  thc  con- 

version of  a  sinner.  Second,  sin  was  yet  very 
sweet  to  my  flesh,  and  I  was  loath  to  leave  it. 
Third,  I  could  not  tell  how  to  part  with  my 
old  companions,  their  presence  and  actions 
were  so  desirable  unto  me.  Fourth,  the  hours 
in  wliich  convictions  were  upon  me.  were  such 
troublesome  and  such  heart-affrijih tinge  hours, 


358  PTLORTM'S   J'ROCIM'PR. 

that  I  could  not  bear,  no,  not  so  much  as  the 
remembrance  of  them  upon  my  heart. 

Chr.  Then,  as  it  seems,  s.ometimes  you  got 
rid  of  your  trouble  ? 

Hope.  Yes,  verily,  but  it  would  come  into 
my  mind  again ;  and  then  I  should  be  as  bad, 
nay,  worse  than  T  was  before. 

Chr.  Why,  what  was  it  that  brought  your 
sins  to  mind  again  ? 

Hope.  Many  things:  as, 

1.  If  I  did  but  meet  a  good  man  ,J,^,Z\\lin, 
in  the  street;  or,  Siu.'^'^"-""'" 

2.  If  I  have  heard  any  read  in  the  Bible; 
or, 

3.  If  my  head  did  begin  to  ache;  or, 

4.  If  I  were  told  that  some  of  my  neighbors 
were  sick :  or, 

5:  If  I  heard  the  bell  toll  for  some  that 
were  dead ;  or, 

G.  If  I  thought  of  dying  myself;  or, 

7.  If  I  heard  that  sudden  death  happened 
to  others. 

8.  But  especially  when  I  thought  of  myself, 
that  I  must  quickly  come  to  judgment. 

Chr.  And  could  you  at  any  time,  Avith 
ease,  get  off  the  guilt  of  sin,  when  by  any  of 
these  ways  it  came  upon  you  ? 


1101'  !•  Vl\.'<  ( •  0  N  \-  F.  P.  .^  I  o  ^ .  :  J51» 

Hope.  No.  not  I;  for  (Ijcn  tlicv  oot  faster 
liokl  of  my  conscience;  and  llien.  if  I  did  but 
tliink  of  going  back  to  sin.  (tli(nigli  my  mind 
was  turned  against  it.)  it  would  be  double  toi- 
inent  to  me. 

Chpv.  And  how  did  you  do  then  ? 
^vhcn  he  could        HoPE.  I  tliouulit  I  luust  cndcavor 

no  longer  shake  *-- 

Mnfuf  ^-oul^sK  to  mend  my  life;  or  else,  thought  I. 

Ihi'ii  lie  ciideav-    _  i  i  i 

oritomend.      1  am  surc  to  be  damned. 

Chk.  And  did  you  endeavor  to  mend  ?    - 
Hope.  Yes,   and  fled  from,   not  only  my 

sins,  but  sinful  comjjany  too.  and  betook  me  to 

religious  duties,  as  i)raying.  reading,  weeping 

for  sin.  speaking  truth  to  my  neighbors,  etc. 

These  things  did  T.  with  many  othei's.  too  much 

here  to  relate. 

Chr.   AikI    did    you    think    yourself  well 

then? 
ThcnHoppfiii         Hope.  Yes,  for  a  while;  but  at 

thought  himself 

^^•^"  the  last  my  trouble  came  tund)ling 

upon  mc  again,  and  that  over  the  neck  of  all 
my  reformations. 

Chr.  How  came  that  about,  since  you  were 
now  reformed  ? 
Keformation        HopE.  Tlicrc  wcrc  scvcral  thing? 

at  last  could  not 

heip.andwhy.  brought  it  upou  lue,  especially  such 
sayings   as    these:     "AH    our    i-ighteousnesses 


360  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

are  as  filthy  rags.''  Isa.  64:6.  "By  the 
works  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified." 
Gal.  2:16.  "When  ye  have  done  all  these 
things,  say,  We  are  unprofitable,"  Luke  17:10; 
with  many  more  such  like.  From  whence  I 
began  to  reason  with  myself  thus:  If  all  my 
righteousnesses  are  as  filthy  rags;  if  by  the 
deeds  of  the  law  no  man  can  be  justified ;  and 
if,  when  we  have  done  all,  we  are  yet  unprof- 
itnble,  then  is  it  but  a  folly  to  think  of  heaven 
.by  the  law.  I  further  thought  thus:  If  a  man 
runs  a  hundred  pounds  into  the  shop-  J-^^^  ^^o"^tl.e 
keeper's  debt,  and  after  that  shall  him.  '"""'' 
pay  for  all  that  he  shall  fetch,  yet  if  his  old 
debt  stand  still  in  the  book  uncrossed,  the 
shopkeeper  may  sue  him  for  it,  and  cast  him 
into  prison,  till  he  shall  pay  the  debt. 

CiiR.  Well,  and  how  did  you  apply^this  to 
yourself  ? 

Hope.  Why,  I  thought  thus  with  myself:  I 
have  by  my  sins  run  a  great  way  into  God's 
book,  and  my  now  reforming  will  not  pay  off 
that  score;  therefore  I  should  think  still,  un- 
der all  my  present  amendments.  But  how  shall 
I  be  freed  from  that  damnation  that  I  brought 
myself  in  danger  of  by  my  former  transgres- 
sions ? 


]  I  U  1'  !•:  F  U  I /  r^  ( "  U  X  V  K 1! .-  1 1 )  N  .  ;u;  1 

VuH.  A  V(M-v  o-()()(|  application:  l)iil  pi'uy 
go  on. 

Hope.  Another  thing  fbat  hath  troubled 
bad'^thinTs'm  "^^  ^^'^^'  ^^^^^^^  '"}'  ^'^^^e  amendments 

his    bist  duties    •         ,i       ,      •!•    t    1        i  i        •     i         ji 

troubled  him.  IS,  tliat  il  I  looK  naiTOwlv  into  tlie 
best  of  what  I  do  now,  I  still  see  sin,  new  sin 
mixing  itself  with  the  best  of.  that  I  do :  so  that 
now  I  am  foreed  to  conclude,  that  notwith- 
standing my  former  fond  conceits  of  myself 
and  duties,  I  have  committed  sin  enough  in 
one  day  to  send  me  to  hell,  though  my  former 
life  had  l)een  faultless. 

CiiK.  And  what  did  you  do  then? 

Hope.  Do?  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do.  until 
I  broke  my  mind  to  Faithful :  for  he  and  I 
This  made  him  wcrc  wcU  ac(iuainted..  And  he  told 
to'Faithfui,who  me,  that  unless  I  could  obtain  the 

told     him     the  ' 

waytobesavcd.  i-jghtcousness  of  a  uiau  that  never 
had  sinned,  neither  mine  own,  nor  all  the 
righteousness  of  the  world,  could  save  me. 

Chr.  And  did  you  think  he  spoke  true  ? 

Hope.  Had  he  told  me  so  when  I  was 
j)leased  and  satisfied  with  my  own  amend- 
ments, I  had  called  him  fool  for  his  pains; 
but  now,  since  I  see  my  own  infirmity,  and 
the  sin  which  cleaves  to  my  best  perforuuince; 
I  have  been  forced  to  be  of  his  opinion. 

r.K    Pr...  16 


862  riLcnncs  PRornjEHP. 

Chr.  But  did  you  tliiuk,  wlieu  at  lirst  no 
suggested  it  to  you,  that  there  v\^as  sueh  a  man 
to  l)e  found,  ot  whom  it  mi^ht  justly  be  said, 
that  he  never  committed  sin  ? 

Hope.  I  must  confess  the  words  at  first 
sounded  strangely;  but  after  a  little  more  talk 
and  company  with  him,  I  had  full  conviction 
about  it. 

Chr.  And  did  you  ask  him  what  man  this 
was,  and  how  you  must  be  justified  by  him? 

Hope.  Yes,  and  he  told  me  it  was  the  Lord 
Jesus,  that  dwelleth  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
Most  High.  Heb.  10: 12-21.  ''AudJ^;^^ 
thus,'"'  said  he,  "yon  must  be  justi-  be slved'''''^ 
fied  by  him,  even  by  trusting  to  what  he  hath 
done  by  himself  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  and 
suffered  when  he  did  hang  on  the  tree."  Rom. 
4:5;  Col.  1  :14;  1  Pet.  1  :19.  I  asked  him 
further,  how  that  man's  righteousness  could  be 
of  that  efficacy,  to  justify  anotlier  before  God- 
And  he  told  me  he  was  the  mighty  God,  and 
did  what  he  did,  and  died  the  death  also,  not 
for  himself,  Imt  for  me ;  to  whom  his  doings, 
and  the  worthiness  of  them,  should  be  imputed, 
if  I  believed  on  him. 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  do  then? 

Hope.  I   made  my  objections  against  my 


bi'lirviuLi'.  lor  thai  I  lliouLilit  lie  was  not  williujj; 

lie  doubts  of  A  .    v;.,v(»   mo 
acceptation  in   >a  \  «     im  . 

Chr.  And  what  said  Faithl'iil  to  you  then? 

HoPi-:.  IIo  l)id  nie  uo  to  him  and  seo.  Then 
1  said  it  was  prosiiiui)tion.  Jlc  said,  "  No;  for 
nJI-ucle.^"""  I  ^vas  invited  to  come."  .Afatt.  1 1  :  2S. 
Then  he  gave  me  a  book  of  Jesus"  inditing,  to 
encourage  me  tlie  more  freely  to  come ;  and  he 
said  concerning  that  Ijook,  that  every  jot  and 
tittle  thereof  stood  firmer  than  heaven  and 
earth.  Matt.  24  :  35.  Then  I  asked  him  what 
I  must  do  when  I  came ;  and  he  told  me  I  nmst 
entreat  upon  my  knees,  Psa.  95  :G,  Dan.  G:10, 
with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  Jer.  29:12,  13, 
the  Father  to  reveal  him  to  me.  Then  I  asked 
him  further,  how^  I  must  make  my  sup})lica- 
tions  to  him;  and  he  said,  "Go,  and  thou  shalt 
find  him  upon  a  mercy-scat,  wdiere  he  sits  all 
the  year  long  to  give  pardon  and  forgiveness 
to  them  that  come."  Exod.  25  :  22  ;  Lev.  IG  :  2  ; 
Num.  7:89;  Pleb.  4:1G.  I  told  him  that  I 
knew  not  what  to  say  when  I  came;  and  he 
p,'';  '^  •^"' '"  bid  me  say  to  this  effect:  "God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  and  make  me  to  kncAv 
and  believe  in  Jesus  Christ;  for  I  sec  that  if 
his  righteousness  had  not  been,  or  I  have  not 
faith   ill  that  righteousness.  I  am  nttei'ly  cast 


364  PILGRIM'S  TROGRESS. 

away.  Lord,  I  have  lieard  that  thou  art  a 
merciful  God,  and  hast  ordained  that  thy  Son 
Jesus  Christ  shoukl  be  the  Saviour  of  the  world ; 
and  moreover,  that  thou  art  willing  to  bestow 
him  upon  such  a  poor  sinner  as  I  am — and  I 
am  a  sinner  indeed.  Lord,  take  therefore  this 
opportunity,  and  magnify  thy  grace  in  the  sal- 
vation of  my  soul,  through  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen." 

Chr.  And  did  you  do  as  you  w^ere  bidden? 

Hope.  Yes,  over  and  over  and     He  prays. 
over. 

Chr.  Did  the  Father  reveal  the  Son  to  you? 

Hope.  Not  at  the  first,  nor  second,  nor 
third,  nor  fourth,  nor  fifth,  no,  nor  at  the  sixth 
time  neither. 

Chr.  What  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  What?  why,  I  could  not  tell  what 
to  do. 

Chr.  Had  you  not  thoughts  of  leaving  off 
praying  ? 

Hope.  Yes ;  and  a  hundred  times  twice  told. 

Chr.  And  what  was  the  reason  you  did  not? 

Hope.  I  believed  that  it  was  true  which 
hath  been  told  me,  to  wit,  that  with-    ne  durst  not 

leave  oil'   pray- 

out  the  righteousness  of  this  Christ,  ing>andwhy. 
all  the  world  could  not  save  me ;  and  therefore, 


riiRiST  im-:vi:alp:d.  365 

ihoiiulit  I  with  iiiyscir.  if  I  leave  oil".  I  die,  and 
I  can  Imt  die  at  (lie  tlirone  of  tiTace.  And 
withal  this  came  into  my  mind,  "If  it  tarry 
wait  for  it,  bccansc  it  will  surely  come,  and 
will  not  tarry."  Hal).  2  :  3.  So  I  continued 
j)raying  until  the  Father  showed  me  his  Son. 

CiiR.  And  how  was  he  revealed  unto  you  ? 

Hope.  I  did  not  see  him  with  my  hodily 
Christ  is  re-  cvcs,   l)ut  witli  thc  eves  of  my  un- 

voalcd  to   him, 

ami  iiow.  derstandino-.  Eph.  1 :  18.  19  ;  and  thus 
it  was.  One  day  I  was  very  sad.  I  think  sad- 
der than  at  any  one  time  in  my  life;  and  this 
sadness  was  throu.di  a  fresh  sight  of  the  great- 
ness and  viTeness  of  my  sins.  And  as  I  was 
then  looking  for  nothing  but  hell,  and  the  ever- 
lasting damnation  of  my  soul,  suddenly,  as  I 
thought,  I  saw  the  Lord  Jesus  looking  down 
from  heaven  upon  me,  and  saying,  "Believe 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be 
saved."'     Acts  1G:31. 

But  I  replied,  "  Lord,  I  am  a  great,  a  very 
great  sinner;'"  and  he  answered,  "My  grace  is 
sufficient  for  thee."'  2  Cor.  12  :  9.  Then  I  said, 
"But,  Lord,  what  is  believing?"'  And  then  I 
saw  from  that  saying,  'He  that  cometh  to  me 
shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on 
me  shall   never  thirst,"  John  (V:  3o,   that  be- 


•d66  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

lioving  and  coming  was  all  one ;  and  that  lie 
that  came,  that  is,  that  ran  ont  in  his  heart  and 
affections  after  salvation  by  Christ,  he  indeed 
believed  in  Christ.  Then  the  water  stood  in 
mine  eyes,  and  I  asked  further,  "But,  Lord, 
may  such  a  great  sinner  as  I  am  be  indeed 
accepted  of  thee,  and  be  saved  by  thee  V-^  And 
I  heard  him  say,  "And  him  that  cometh  to  me 
I  will  in  nowise  cast  out."  John  6  :  37.  Then 
I  said,  "But  how.  Lord,  must  I  consider  of 
thee  in  my  coming  to  thee,  that  my  faith  may 
be  placed  aright  upon  thee  ?"  Then  he  said, 
"Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners. 1  Tim.  1 :  15.  He  is  the  end  of  the  law 
for  righteousness  to  every  one  that  believes. 
Eom.  10:4,  and  chap.  4.  He  died  for  our 
sins,  and  rose  again  for  our  justification.  Rom. 
4  :  25.  He  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our 
sins  in  his  own  blood."  Rev.  1:5.  He  is  Me- 
diator between  God  and  us.  1  Tim.  2:5.  He 
ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us."  Heb. 
7  :  25.  From  all  which  I  gathered  that  I  must 
look  for  righteousness  in  his  person,  and  for 
satisfaction  for  my  sins  by  his  blood ;  that  what 
he  did  in  obedience  to  his  Father's  law,  and  in 
submitting  to  the  penalty  thereof,  was  not  for 
himself,  but  for  him  that  will  accept  it  for  his 


iiorKFri/s  Lovi;.  367 

salvation,  and  Ix'  tlianklul.  And  now  was  my 
heart  I'nll  of  Joy,  mine  eyes  full  of  tears,  and 
mine  afteetions  running  over  with  love  to  the 
uame,  peo])k\  and  ways  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Ciiii.  This  was  a  revelation  of  Christ  to 
your  soul  indeed.  Ikit  tell  nie  jjartieukrly 
what  eflfeet  this  had  uijon  your  spirit. 

Hope.  It  made  me  see  that  all  the  world, 
notwithstandinu-  all  tlie  righteousness  thereof, 
is  in  a  state  of  eondemnation.  It  luade  me  see 
that  God  the  Father,  though  he  be  just,  can 
justly  justify  the  eoming  sinner.  It  made  me 
greatly  ashamed  of  the  vileness  of  my  former 
life,  and  eonfounded  me  with  the  sense  of  my 
own  ignorauee ;  for  there  never  eame  a  thought 
into  my  heart  befoi-e  now  that  showed  me  so 
the  beauty  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  made  me  love 
a  holy  life,  and  long  to  do  something  for  the 
honor  and  glory  of  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 
Yea,  T  thought  tliat  had  1  now  a  thousand  gal- 
lons of  blood  in  my  Ijody,  I  could  spill  it  all 
for  the  sake  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

I  saw  then  in  niy  dream,  that  IIoj)eful  look- 
ed back,  and  saw  Ignorance,  wliom  they  had 
left  beliind,  coming  after.  "  Look,"  saifl  he  to 
Christian,  "how  far  yonder  youngster  loitereth 
behind." 


368  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  A}^,  aye,  I  see  him;  he  careth  not 
for  our  company. 

Hope.  But  I  trow  it  would  not  have  hurt 
him,  had  he  kept  pace  with  us  hitherto. 

Chr.  That  is  true;  but  I  warrant  you  he 
thiiiketh  otherwise. 

Hope.  That  I  think  he  doth ;  but,  however, 
let  us  tarry  for  him. 

So  they  did. 

Then  good  Christian  said  to  him,  "Come 

away,  man ;  why  do  you  stay  so  be-    Young  igno- 
rance comes  ui) 

hind  ?"  ^S'-^'" 

Ignor.  I  take  my  pleasure  in  walking  alone, 
even  more  a  great  deal  than  in  company,  unless 
I  like  it  the  better. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  (but  softly,) 
"  Did  I  not  tell  you  he  cared  not  for  our  com- 
pany ?  But  however,"  said  he,  "come  up,  and 
let  us  talk  away  the  time  in  this  solitary  place." 

Then,  directing  his  speech  to  Ignorance,  he 
said,  "Come,  how  do  you  do?  How  stands  it 
between  God  and  your  soul  now  ?" 

Ignor.  I  hope,  well ;  for  I  am  al-      ignorance  > 

hope,    and    tUi 

ways  full  of  good  motions,  that  come  ground  of  u. 
into  my  mind  to  comfort  me  as  I  walk. 

Chr.  What  good  motions  ?     Pray  tell  us. 

Ignor.  Why,  I  think  of  God  and  heaven. 


IGNOKANCl-r.^   HOTE.  369 

Chr.  So  do  the  di'vils  aiitl  dainned  souls. 

Igxou.  But  I  tliiiik  of  tluMii,  and  desire  them. 

Chr.  So  do  many  that  are  never  like  to 
come  there.  'The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desir- 
eth.  and  hath  nothing.''     Prov.  13  :  4. 

Igxou.  But  I  think  of  them,  and  leave  all 
for  them. 

CiiR.  That  I  doubt;  for  to  leave  all  is  a 
very  hard  matter;  yea,  a  harder  matter  than 
many  are  aware  of.  But  why,  or  by  what  art 
thou  persuaded  that  thou  hast  left  all  for  God 
and  heaven  ? 

Igxor.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

CiiR.  The  wise  man  says,  "He  that  trust- 
eth  in  his  own  heart  is  a  fool."     Prov.  28  :  26. 

Igxor.  That  is  spoken  of  an  evil  heart;  but 
mine  is  a  good  one. 

Chr.  But  how  dost  thou  prove  that  ? 

Igxor.  It  comforts  me  in  hopes  of  heaven. 

Chr.  That  may  be  through  its  deceitful- 
ness ;  for  a  man's  heart  may  minister  comfort 
to  him  in  the  hopes  of  that  thing  for  which  he 
has  yet  no  ground  to  lioi)e. 

Igx'OR.  But  my  heart  and  life  agree  togeth- 
er; and  therefore  my  ho])e  is  well  grounded. 

Chr.  Who  told  thee  that  thy  heart  and  life 
agree  together? 

16* 


370  PILGRIM'S  TROGRESS. 

Ignor.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  "Ask  my  fellow  if  I  be  a  thief."  Thy 
heart  tells  thee  so !  Except  the  word  of  God 
beareth  witness  in  this  matter,  other  testimony 
is  of  no  value. 

Ignor.  But  is  it  not  a  good  heart  that  hath 
good  thoughts  ;  and  is  not  that  a  good  life  that 
is  according  to  God's  commandments  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  a  good  heart  that  hath 
good  thoughts,  and  that  is  a  good  life  that  is 
according  to  God's  commandments;  but  it  is 
one  thing  indeed  to  have  these,  and  another 
thing  only  to  think  so. 

Ignor.  Pray,  what  count  you  good  thoughts, 
and  a  life  according  to  God's  commandments  ? 

Chr.  There  are  good  thoughts  of  divers 
kinds;  some  respecting  ourselves,  some  God, 
some  Christ,  and  some  other  things. 

Ignor.  What  be  good  thoughts  respecting 
ourselves  ? 

Chr.  Such  as  agree  with  the  word  thought  ^°"'' 
of  God. 

Ignor.  When  do  our  thoughts  of  ourselves 
agree  with  the  Avord  of  God  ? 

Chr.  When  we  pass  the  same  judgment 
upon  ourselves  which  the  word  passes.  To 
explain  myself:  the  word  of  God  saith  of  per- 


WIl  AT   SAITII    TllK    \V()I!I>.  'Mi 

sons  ill  a  natural  coiKlition,  "'riicre  is  none 
righteous,  there  is  none  that  doetli  uood."  It 
saith  also,  that  "every  imagination  of  the  heart 
of  man  is  only  evil,  and  that  eontinually." 
Gen.  G:o;  Rom.  3.  And  again,  "The  imagi- 
nation of  man's  heart  is  evil  from  his  youth.'' 
Gen.  8:21.  Now,  then,  when  we  think  thus 
of  ourselves,  having  sense  thereof,  then  are 
our  thoughts  good  ones,  because  according  to 
the  word  of  God. 

Ignok.  1  will  never  believe  that  my  heart 
is  thus  bad. 

Chk.  Therefore  thou  never  hadst  one  good 
thought  concerning  thyself  in  thy  life.  But  let 
me  go  on.  As  the  word  passeth  a  judgment 
upon  our  hearts,  so  it  passeth  a  judgment  ui)on 
our  ways;  and  wlieii  the  thoughts  of  our  hearts 
and  ways  agree  with  the,  judgment  which  the 
word  giveth  of  both,  then  are  both  good,  be- 
cause agreeing  thereto. 

Igxor.  Make  out  your  meaning. 

Chr.  Why,  the  word  of  God  saith,  that 
niaiTs  ways  are  crooked  ways,  not  good,  but 
j)erverse;  it  saith,  they  are  naturally  out  of  the 
good  way,  that  they  have  not  known  it.  Psa. 
125  :  5  ;  Prov.  2:15:  Kom.  3:12.  Now,  when 
a  man  thus  lliiiikctli  <>f  his  wavs — I  sav.  when 


372  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

he  doth  sensibly,  and  with  heart-humiliation, 
]hus  think,  then  hath  he  good  thoughts  of  his 
own  ways,  because  his  thoughts  now  agree  with 
the  judgment  of  the  word  of  God. 

Ignor.  What  are  good  thoughts  concerning 
God? 

Chr.  Even,  as  I  have  said  concerning  our- 
selves, when  our  thoughts  of  God  do  agree  with 
what  the  Avord  saith  of  him ;  and  that  is,  when 
we  think  of  his  being  and  attributes  as  the 
word  Imth  taught,  of  which  I  cannot  noAV  dis- 
course at  large.  But  to  speak  of  him  with 
reference  to  us:  then  have  Ave  right  thoughts 
of  God  Avhen  we  think  that  he  knows  us  better 
than  we  know  ourselves,  and  can  see  sin  in  us 
when  and  where  Ave  can  see  none  in  ourselves ; 
Avhen  Ave  think  he  knoAvs  our  inmost  thoughts, 
and  that  our  heart  Avith  all  its  depths  is  al- 
Avays  open  unto  his  eyes ;  also  when  Ave  think 
that  all  our  righteousness  stinks  in  his  nostrils, 
and  that  therefore  he  cannot  abide  to  see  us 
stand  before  him  in  any  confidence,  even  in 
all  our  best  performances. 

Ignor.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  fool 
as  to  think  that  God  can  see  no  further  than  I  ; 
or  that  I  Avould  come  to  God  in  the  best  of  my 
})erformances  ? 


IGNORANCE'S   FAITH.  373 

CiiK.  Why.  how  do.st  thou  lliiuk  in  llii.s 
matter? 

Ignor.  Wliy,  to  be  short,  I  think  I  must 
believe  in  Chri.^t  for  Justification. 

CiiR.  How?  tliiuk  thou  must  believe  in 
Christ,  when  thou  seest  not  thy  need  of  him  ? 
Thou  neither  seest  thy  original  nor  actual  in- 
firmities; but  hast  such  an  opinion  of  thyself, 
and  of  what  thou  doest,  as  plainly  renders  thee 
to  be  one  that  did  never  see  the  necessity  of 
Christ's  personal  righteousness  to  justify  thee 
before  God.  IIow.  then,  dost  thou  .^^ay,  I  be- 
lieve in  Christ  ? 

Igxor.  I  believe  well  enough,  for  all  that. 

Chr.  How  dost  thou  believe  ? 

Igxor.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sin- 
iglorance'''  °' ncrs ;  aud  tluit  I  shull  be  justified 
before  God  from  the  curse,  through  his  gra- 
cious acceptance  of  my  obedience  to  his  laws. 
Or  thus.  Christ  makes  my  duties,  tiuit  are  re- 
ligious, acceptal)le  to  his  Father  by  virtue  of 
his  merits,  and  so  shall  I  l)e  justified. 

Chr.  Let  me  give  an  answer  to  this  con- 
fession of  thy  faith. 

1.  Thou  believest  with  a  fantastical  faith; 
for  this  faitli  is  nowhere  described  in  the 
word. 


374  riLGRIxM'S  PROGRESS. 

2.  Thou  belie  vest  with  a  false  faith ;  be- 
cause it  taketh  justification  from  the  personal 
righteousness  of  Christ,  and  applies  it  to  thy 
own. 

3.  This  faith  maketli  not  Christ  a  justiller 
of  thy  person,  but  of  thy  actions,  and  of  thy 
person  for  thy  actions'  sake,  which  is  false. 

4.  Therefore  this  faith  is  deceitful,  even 
such  as  will  leave  thee  under  wrath  in  the  day 
of  God  Almight}^ ;  for  true  justifying  faith  puts 
the  soul,  as  sensible  of  its  lost  condition  by  the 
law,  upon  flying  for  refuge  unto  Christ's  right- 
eousness— which  righteousness  of  his  is  not  an 
act  of  grace  by  which  he  maketh,  for  justifica- 
tion, thy  obedience  accepted  with  God,  but 
his  personal  obedience  to  the  law,  in  doing 
and  suffering  for  us  what  that  required  at  our 
hands — this  righteousness,  I  say,  true  faith 
acccpteth ;  under  the  skirt  of  which  the  soul 
being  shrouded,  and  by  it  presented  as  spotless 
before  God,  it  is  accepted,  and  acquitted  from 
condemnation. 

Ignor,  What,  would  you  have  us  trust  to 
what  Christ  in  his  own  person  has  done  with- 
out us  ?  This  conceit  would  loosen  the  reins  of 
our  lust,  and  tolerate  us  to  live  as  we  list:  for 
what  matter  how  we  live,  if  we  may  be  justi- 


KINOIJANCK   1(;N()I:ANT.  375 

lird  by  Clii-isfs  jhm'soiuiI  riulitcousiiess  rroiii  all, 
wIk'U  we  l)eliovc  it  ? 

CiiR.  Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy 
name  is,  so  art  thou  :  even  this  thy  answer 
demonstrateth  what  I  say.  Ignorant  thou  art 
of  what  justifying  righteousness  is,  and  as  igno- 
rant how  to  secure  thy  soul,  through  the  faith 
of  it,  from  the  lieavy  wrath  of  God.  Yea,  thou 
also  art  ignorant  of  the  true  effects  of  saving 
faith  in  this  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  is  to 
bow  and  win  over  the  heart  to  Ood  in  Christ, 
to  love  his  name,  his  word,  ways,  and  people, 
and  not  as  thou  ignorantly  imaginest. 

Hope.  Ask  him  if  ever  he  liad  Christ  re- 
vealed to  him  from  heaven. 

Igxor.  AVhat,  you  are  a  man  for  revela- 
gK^ra:  tions !  I  do  believe,  that  what  both 
you  and  all  the  rest  of  you  say  about  that 
matter,  is  l)ut  the  fruit  of  distracted  brains. 

Hope.  Why,  man,  Christ  is  so  hid  in  (Jod 
from  the   natural  ap[)rehensions  of  the  flesh, 
that  he  cannot  by  any  man  be  savingly  known, 
unless  God  the  Father  reveals  him  to  him. 
proa'chTuri^''of        I^'^'^^^-   That  Is  your  faith,  but 

w>.at  he  knows  ^^^   ^^^j^^^,.    ^.^^    ^^j^^     y    ^^^^^^y^^    ^^^^^      j^ 

as  good  as  yours,   though   I  have  not  in  my 
liead  so  nuiuv  whimsies  as  vou. 


376  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  Grive  me  leave  to  put  in  a  word.  You 
ought  not  so  slightly  to  speak  of  this  matter ; 
for  this  I  will  boldly  affirm,  even  as  my  good 
companion  hath  done,  that  no  man  can  know 
Jesus  Christ  but  by  the  revelation  of  the  Fa- 
ther; yea,  and  faith  too,  by  which  the  soul 
la3^eth  hold  upon  Christ,  (if  it  be  right,)  must 
be  wrought  by  the  exceeding  greatness  of  his 
mighty  power,  Matthew  11  :  27 ;  1  Cor.  12:3; 
Eph.  1  :  17-19;  the  working  of  which  faith,  I 
perceive,  poor  Ignorance,  thou  art  ignorant  of. 
Be  awakened,  then ;  see  thine  own  wretched- 
ness, and  fly  to  the  Lord  Jesus;  and  by  his 
righteousness,  which  is  the  righteousness  of 
God,  (for  he  himself  is  God,)  thou  shalt  be 
delivered  from  condemnation. 

Ignor.  You  go  so  fast  I  cannot  brokin  up.''  '' 
keep  pace  with  you;  do  you  go  on  before:  1 
must  stay  a  while  behind. 

Then  they  said, 

"Well,  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  foolish  be, 
To  slight  good  counsel,  ten  times  given  thee  ? 
And  if  thou  yet  refuse  it,  thou  shalt  know, 
Ere  long,  the  evil  of  thy  doing  so. 
Remember,  man,  in  time:  stoop,  do  not  fear: 
Good  counsel,  taken  well,   saves;  therefore  hear, 
But  if  thou  yet  shalt  slight  it,  thou  wilt  be 
The  loser,  Ignorance,  I  '11  warrant  thee." 


BLINDNESS   niEVALENT.  377 


THE  TEXTH  STAGE. 

Then  Christian  addressed  himself  thus  to 
iis  fellow: 

Cur.  Well,  come,  my  good  TTopefuL  I  per- 
ceive that  thou  and  I  must  walk  by  ourselves 
agaiTi. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on 
apace  before,  and  Ignorance  he  came  hobbling 
after.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  com])anion, 
"I  much  pity  this  poor  man:  it  ^vill  certainly 
go  ill  with  him  at  last." 

Hope.  Alas,  there  are  abundance  in  our 
town  in  his  condition,  whole  families,  yea. 
whole  streets,  and  that  of  pilgrims  too :  and  if 
there  be  so  many  in  our  parts,  how  many, 
think  you,  must  there  be  in  the  place  where  he 
was  born  ? 

Chr.  Indeed,  the  word  saith,  "lie  hath 
blinded  their  eyes,  lest  they  should  see,"  etc. 

But,  now  we  are  by  ourselves,  what  do  you 
think  of  such  men?  Have  they  at  no  time, 
think  you,  convictions  of  sin.  and  so,  conse- 
quently,  fears  that  their  state  is  dangerous? 

Hope.  Nay,  do  you  answer  that  question 
vourself.  for  vou  are  the  elder  man? 


378  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  Then  I  say,  sometimes,  as  I  think, 
they  may;  but  they  being  naturally  ignorant, 
understand  not  that  such  convictions  tend  to 
their  good ;  and  therefore  they  do  desperately 
seek  to  stifle  them,  and  presumptuously  con- 
tinue to  flatter  themselves  in  the  way  of  their 
own  hearts. 

Hope.  I  do  believe,  as  you  say,  that"  fear 
tends  much  to  men's  good,  and  to  onear^""'' "'' 
make  them  right  at  their  beginning  to  go  on 
pilgrimage. 

Chr.  Without  all  doubt  it  doth,  if  it  be 
right;  for  so  says  the  word,  "The  fear  of  the 
Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom."  Job  28  :  28 ; 
Psa.  111:10;  Prov.  1:7;  9:10. 

Hope.  How  will  you  describe  right  fear  ? 

Chr.  True  or  right  fear  is  dis-     Right  fear, 
covered  by  three  things: 

1.  By  its  rise:  it  is  caused  by  saving  con- 
victions for  sin. 

2.  It  driveth  the  soul  to  lay  fast  hold  of 
Christ  for  salvation. 

3.  It  begetteth  and  continueth  in  the  soul  a 
great  reverence  of  God,  his  word,  and  ways; 
keeping  it  tender,  and  making  it  afraid  to  turn 
from  them,  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left,  to 
anv  thing  that  mav  dishonor  God,  break  its 


EVILS  OF   IGNOIIANTE.  ^79 

])eaoo,  gri(>v('  tlio  .spirit,  or  cause  the  enemy  to 
speak  reproaclilully. 

Hope.  AVell  said ;  I  believe  you  have  said 
the  truth.  Are  we  now  ahnost  got  past  the 
Enchanted  Ground  ? 

CiiH.  AVliy  ?  are  you  weary  of  this  dis- 
course ? 

PIoPE.  Xo.  verily,  but  that  I  would  know 
where  we  are. 

Ciiu.  AVe  have  not  now  above  two  miles 
further  to  go  thereon.  But  let  us  return  to  our 
matter. 

Xow,  tlie  ignorant  know  not  that  such  con- 
why ignorant  vlctlons  as  tcud  to  i)ut  tlieui  lu  fcar 

persons       stifle 

conviction.  ^rc  for  thclr  good,  and  therefore  they 
seek  to  stifle  them. 

Hope.  How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them  ? 

Cur.  First,  they  think  that  those  fears  are 
wrought  by  the  devil,  (though  indeed  they  are 
wrought  of  God.)  and  t1i inking  so,  they  resist 
them,  as  things  that  dir(  ( lly  tend  to  their  over- 
throw. Second,  they  also  think  that  these  fears 
tend  to  the  spoiling  of  their  faitli:  when,  alas 
for  them,  poor  men  tliat  they  are,  they  liave 
none  at  all;  and  therefoi-e  tliey  harden  their 
hearts  against  them.  Third,  they  piesunie  they 
ought  not  to  fear,  and  therefore,  in  des})ite  of 


380  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

them,  wax  presumptuously  confident.  Fourth, 
they  see  that  those  fears  tend  to  take  away 
from  them  their  pitiful  old  self-holiness,  and 
therefore  they  resist  them  with  all  their  might. 

Hope.  I  know  something  of  this  myself;  for 
before  I  knew  myself  it  was  so  with  me. 

Chr.  Well,  we  will  leave,  at  this  time,  our 
neighbor  Ignorance  by  himself,  and  fall  upon 
another  profitable  question. 

Hope.  With  all  my  heart;  but  you  shall 
still  begin. 

Chr.  Well,  then,  did  you  know,  about  ten 
years  ago,  one  Temporary  in  your  xempo^rar^""'' 
parts,  who  was  a  forward  man  in  religion 
then  ? 

Hope.  Know  him?  yes;  he  dwelt  in  Grace- 
less, a  town  about  two  miles  off  of  Honesty, 
and  he  dwelt  next  door  to  one  Turnback. 

Chr.  Right ;  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof 
with  him.  Well,  that  man  was  much  awaken- 
ed once :  I  believe  that  then  he  had  some  sight 
of  his  sins,  and  of  the  wages  that  were  due 
thereto. 

Hope.  I  am  of  your  mind,  for  (my  house 
•not  being  above  three  miles  from  him)  he  would 
ofttimes  come  to  me,  and  that  with  many  tears. 
Truly  I  pitied  the  man,  and  was  not  altogether 


ti:mim)i;.\i;v  I!.\ck.-^i.ii)Ks.  ;',.si 

without  liopc  of  liim  ;  l)iit  one  may  sco  it  is  n(»t 
evorv  OHO  that  cfics,  "Lord,  Loi-d." 

Cur.  IIo  told  me  once  tliat  lie  was  resolved 
to  o'o  OH  ])iluriiiia<re,  as  we  go  now ;  but  all  of 
a  sudden  he  ci-ew  aeijuainted  with  one  Save- 
self,  and  then  he  became  a  strang-er  to  me. 

HoPK.  Now,  since  we  are  talking  about  him, 
let  us  a  little  in(|uire  into  the  reason  of  the  sud- 
den backsliding  of  him  and  such  others. 

Ciin.  It  may  be  very  prolitable ;  but  do  you 
begin. 

Hope.  Well  then,  there  are.  in  my  judg- 
ment, four  reasons  for  it: 

1.  Though  the  consciences  of  such  men  are 
awakened,  yet  their  minds  are  not  changed: 
therefore,  when  the  power  of  guilt  weareth 
away,  that  which  })rovoked  them  to  l)e  i-elig- 
ious  ceaseth ;  wherefore  they  naturally  turn  to 
their  old  course  again,  even  as  we  see  the  dog 
that  is  sick  of  what  he  hath  eaten,  so  long  as 
his  sickness  prevails  he  vomits  and  casts  up 
all:  not  that  he  doth  this  of  a  free  mind,  (if  we 
may  say  a  dog  has  a  mind.)  but  because  it 
troubleth  his  stomach  ;  Ijut  now,  Avhen  his  sick- 
-  ness  is  over,  and  so  his  stomach  eased,  his  de- 
sires being  not  at  all  alienated  from  his  vomit, 
he  turns  him  about,  and  licks  up  all;  and  so  it 


382  pil(;rtm'S  progress. 

is  true  wliicli  is  written,  "  The  dog  is  turned  to 
his  own  vomit  again."  2  Pet.  2  :  22.  Thus,  I 
say,  being  hot  for  heaven  by  virtue  only  of 
the  sense  and  fear  of  the  torments  of  hell,  as 
their  sense  of  hell  and  fear  of  damnation  chills 
and  cools,  so  Iheir  desires  for  heaven  and  sal- 
vation cool  also.  So  then  it  comes  to  pass,  that 
when  their  guilt  and  fear  is  gone,  their  desires 
for  heaven  and  happiness  die,  and  they  return 
to  their  course  again. 

2.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish 
fears  that  do  overmaster  them :  I  speak  now  of 
the  fears  that  they  have  of  men ;  ' '  for  the  fear 
of  man  bringeth  a  snare."  Prov.  29  :  25.  So 
then,  though  they  seem  to  be  hot  for  heaven  so 
long  as  the  flames  of  hell  are  about  their  ears, 
yet,  when  that  terror  is  a  little  over,  they  be- 
take themselves  to  second  thoughts,  namely, 
that  it  is  good  to  be  wise,  and  not  to  run  (for 
they  know  not  what)  the  hazard  of  losing  all, 
or  at  least  of  bringing  themselves  into  unavoid- 
able and  unnecessary  troubles ;  and  so  they  fall 
in  with  the  world  again. 

3.  The  shame  that  attends  religion  lies  also 
as  a  block  in  their  way:  they  are  proud  and 
haughty,  and  religion  in  their  eye  is  low  and 
contemptible;  therefore  when  they  have  lost 


NO   CIIANC  K   OF   HKA  I'.T  :iH8 

tiirir  sense  of  licll  mid  (lie  wralli  ti)  foiiic.  (hey 
i-ctiirn  :iu;iiii  to  their  loniu'i-  coiifse. 

I.  (iiiilt,  and  to  meditate  terror,  are  gi-iev- 
I'lis  to  them:  they  like  not  to  .see  their  misery 
I  efore  they  eome  into  it,  tliongli  jjerhajis  th^^ 
sio-ht  oi"  it  at  first,  if  they  loved  that  sight, 
mio-lit  make  them  fly  whither  the  righteous  fly 
and  are  safe;  but  because  they  do,  as  I  hinted 
before,  even  shun  the  tliouglits  of  guilt  and  ter- 
ror, therefore,  when  once  they  are  rid  of  their 
awakenings  about  the  terrors  and  wrath  ol'i  Jod. 
tliey  harden  their  hearts  gladly,  and  choose 
such  ways  as  will  harden  them  more  and  more. 

Ciin.  You  are  pi-etty  near  the  business,  for 
the  l)ottom  of  all  is  for  want  of  a  change  in 
their  mind  and  will.  And  therefore  they  arc 
but  like  the  felon  that  standeth  l)efore  the  judge; 
he  quakes  an<l  tremljles,  and  seems  to  repent 
most  heartily,  l)ut  the  bottom  of  all  is  the  fear 
of  the  halter:  not  that  he  hath  any  detestation 
of  the  offence,  as  it  is  evident ;  because,  let  but 
tliis  man  have  his  liberty,  and  lie  wMll  be  a 
thief,  and  so  a  rogue  still ;  whereas,  if  his  mind 
was  changed,  he  would  be  otherwise. 

Hope.  Xow  I  have  showed  you  the  reason 
of  their  going  back,  do  you  show  me  the  nuin- 
ner  thereof. 


384  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Chr.  So  I  will  willingly. 

1.  They  draw  off  their  thoughts,  all  that 
they  may,  from  the  remembrance  of  ta"°goesba?r 
Grod,  death,  and  judgment  to  come. 

2.  Then  they  cast  off  by  degrees  private 
duties,  as  closet  prayer,  curbing  their  lusts, 
watching,  sorrow  for  sin,  and  the  like. 

3.  Then  they  shun  the  company  of  lively 
and  warm  Christians. 

4.  After  that,  they  grow  cold  to  public  duty, 
as  hearing,  reading,  godly  conference,  and  the 
like. 

5.  Then  they  begin  to  pick  holes,  as  we  say, 
in  the  coats  of  some  of  the  godly,  and  that  dev- 
ilishly, that  they  may  have  a  seeming  color  to 
throw  religion,  for  the  sake  of  some  infirmities 
they  have  espied  in  them,  behind  their  backs. 

6.  Then  they  begin  to  adhere  to,  and  asso- 
ciate themselves  with  carnal,  loose,  and  wanton 
men. 

7.  Then  they  give  way  to  carnal  and  wan- 
ton discourses  in  secret;  and  glad  are  they  if 
they  can  see  such  things  in  any  that  are  count- 
ed honest,  that  they  may  the  more  boldl}'  do  it 
through  their  example. 

8.  After  this  they  begin  to  play  with  little 
riins  openly. 


TllK   IM.KASANT   LAND.  385 

9.  And  tlu'ii.  bring  liartlcncd,  tlicy  sliow 
theniselves  as  they  ai-e.  Tlius,  boing  hiunchcd 
again  into  the  gnlf  of  misery,  unless  a  miraeie 
of  grace  prevent  it,  they  everlastingly  perish 
in  their  own  deceivings. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time 
the  pilgrims  were  got  over  the  Enchanted 
Ground;  and  entering  into  the  country  of  IjCU- 
lah,  whose  air  was  very  sweet  and  pleasant, 
Isa.  62:4-12,  Song  2:10-12,  the  way  lying 
directly  through  it,  they  solaced  themselves 
there  for  a  season.  Yea,  here  they  heard  con- 
tinually the  singing  of  birds,  and  saw  every 
day  the  flowers  appear  in  the  earth,  and  heard 
the  voice  of  the  turtle  in  the  land.  In  this 
country  the  sun  sliineth  night  and  day:  where- 
fore this  was  beyond  the  valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death,  and  also  out  of  the  reach  of  Giant 
Despair ;  neither  could  they  from  this  place  so 
much  as  see  Doubting  Castle.  Here  they  were 
within  sight  of  the  city  they  were  going  to: 
also  here  met  them  some  of  the  inhabitants 
Angels.  thereof:  for  in  this  land  the  shining 
ones  commonly  walked.  l)ecause  it  was  upon 
the  borders  of  heaven.  In  this  land  also  the 
contract  l)etween  the  bride  and  the  Bridegroom 
was  renewed;  yea.  here,  "as  the  lu'idegroom 

P.I.  Pruj.  n 


88G  PILGRIM'^   PROGRESS. 

rejoiceth  over  the  bride,  so  doth  their  God  re- 
joice over  them."  Here  they  had  no  want  of 
corn  and  wine ;  for  in  this  phice  they  met  with 
abundance  of  what  they  had  sought  for  in  all 
their  pilgrimage.  Here  they  heard  voices  from 
out  of  the  city,  loud  voices,  saying,  "Say  ja 
to  the  daughter  of  Zion,  Behold,  thy  salvation 
Cometh !  Behold,  his  reward  is  with  him.'' 
Here  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  called 
them  ''the  holy  people,  the  redeemed  of  the 
Lord,  sought  out,"  etc. 

Now,  as  they  walked  in  this  land,  they  had 
more  rejoicing  than  in  parts  more  remote  from 
the  kingdom  to  which  they  were  bound ;  and 
drawing  near  to  the  city,  they  had  yet  a  more 
perfect  view  thereof.  It  was  builded  of  pearls 
and  precious  stones,  also  the  streets  thereof 
were  paved  with  gold ;  so  that,  by  reason  of 
the  natural  glory  of  the  city,  and  the  reflection 
of  the  sunbeams  upon  it.  Christian  with  desire 
fell  sick ;  Hopeful  also  had  a  lit  or  two  of  the 
same  disease;  wherefore  here  they  lay  by  it  a 
while,  crying  out  because  of  their  pangs,  "If 
you  see  my  Beloved,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick  of 
love." 

But,  being  a  little  strengthened,  and  better 
able  to  bear  their  sickness,   they  walked  on 


UOOLiLV    \  IN  EVA  lilts'.  387 

tlK'ir  way,  ami  caino  yet  iioarcr  and  iicartT. 
wlicre  wore  orchards,  viiioyards.  and  p:ardon?, 
and  their  gates  opened  into  the  highway.  Now. 
as  they  came  up  to  tliese  places,  behold  th<> 
gardener  stood  in  the  way:  to  whom  the  pil- 
gi-ims  said,  "Whose  goodly  vineyards  and  gar- 
dens are  these  ?''  He  answered,  '"They  arc  the 
King's,  and  are  planted  here  for  his  own  de- 
light, and  also  for  the  solace  of  pilgrims."'  So 
the  gardener  had  them  into  the  vineyards,  and 
bid  them  refresh  themselves  with  the  dainties, 
Deut.  2o  :  24 ;  he  also  showed  them  there  the 
King's  walks  and  arbors  where  he  delighted  to 
be ;  and  here  they  tarried  and  slept. 

Xow  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  talked 
more  in  their  sleep  at  this  time  than  ever  they 
did  in  all  their  journey;  and  l)eing  in  a  muse 
thereabout,  the  gardener  said  even  to  me, 
'"Wherefore  musest  thou  at  the  matter?  it  is 
the  nature  of  the  fruit  of  the  grai)es  of  these 
vineyards,  'to  go  down  so  sweetly  as  to  cause 
the  lips  of  them  that  are  asleep  to  speak.' " 
Song  7 : 9. 

So  I  saw  that  when  they  aAvoke,  they  ad- 
dressed themselves  to  go  up  to  the  city.  But, 
as  I  said,  the  reflection  of  the  sun  uj)on  the 
city  (for  the  city  was  pure  gold.  Rev.  21:18,) 


388  PILORTM-S  PrtOO  KESS. 

was  so  extremely  glorious,  that  they  could  not 
as  yet  with  open  face  behold  it,  but  through 
an  instrument  made  for  that  purpose.  2  Cor. 
3:18.  So  I  saw  that  as  they  went  on,  there 
met  them  two  men  in  raiment  that  shone  like 
gold,  also  their  faces  shone  as  the  light. 

These  men  asked  the  pilgrims  whence  they 
came ;  and  they  told  them.  They  also  asked 
them  where  they  had  lodged,  what  difficulties 
and  dangers,  what  comforts  and  pleasures  they 
had  met  with  in  the  way ;  and  they  told  them. 
Then  said  the  men  that  met  them,  "You  have 
but  two  difficulties  more  to  meet  with,  and  then 
you  are  in  the  city." 

Christian  then  and  his  companion  asked  the 
men  to  go  along  with  them;  so  they  fold  them 
that  the}'  would:  "But,"'  said  they,  "you  must 
obtain  it  by  your  own  faith."  So  I  saw  in  my 
dream,  that  they  went  on  together  till  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  gate. 

Now  I  further  saw,  that  between  them  and 
the  gate  was  a  river ;  but  there  was  no  bridge 
to  go  over,  and  the  river  was  very  Death 
deep.  At  the  sight,  therefore,  of  this  river  the 
pilgrims  were  much  stunned ;  but  the  men  that 
went  with  them  said,  "You  must  go  through, 
or  vou  cannot  come  at  the  p-ate." 


Till-:    i;iV  Kli    OF    DKATll.  '.\X\) 

The  |)il<ii"iins  llieu  ln'uan  to  iiKiuire  it  ihoi-o 
was  no  other  way  to  the  jrate.  To  whidi  Ihey 
answered,  *'Yes;  bnt  there  liath  not  any.  save 
two,  to  wit,  p]noch  and  Elijah.  ])een  permitted 
to  tread  tiiat  path  sinee  the  l"oundati(jn  of  tlie 
worhl,  nor  shall  until  the  last  trumpet  shall 
sound."'  The  pilgrims  then,  espeeialh'  Chris- 
Deaihnotwei-  tlau,  befjau  to  despond  in  their  mind, 

come  to  nut  11  re.  '^  '■ 

pass ful'if 'this  and  looked  this  way  and  that,  but 

world  into  glo-  r  j    \         ^^  i     . 

ry.  no  way  could  be  tound  by  them  by 

which  they  might  escape  the  river.  Then  they 
asked  the  men  if  the  waters  were  all  of  a  depth. 
us^noftmlo,''^  Thcy  Said,  "Nof  yet  they  could  not 
Seik  ''""'="  help  them  in  that  case;  "for,"'  said 
the}',  "you  shall  find  it  deeper  or  shallower  as 
you  believe  in  the  King  of  the  place." 

They  then  addressed  themselves  to  the 
water,  and  entering.  Christian  began  to  sink, 
and  crying  out  to  his  good  friend  Hopeful,  he 
said,  '"I  sink  in  deep  waters;  the  billows  go 
over  my  head ;  all  his  Avaves  go  over  me. 
Selah."' 

Then  said  the  otlici-.  'iJe  of  good  cheer, 
my  brother:  I  feel  the  bottom,  and  it  is  good."' 
Then  said  Christian.  ''Ah,  my  friend,  the  sor- 
rows of  death  have  compassed  me  about :  I  shall 
not  see  the  land  that  flows  with  milk  and  honev."' 


300  riLG  RIM'S    rROGRESS. 

And  with  that  a  great  darkness  and  horror  fell 
upon  Christian,  so  that  he  corJd  not       oiristians 

conflict    at    the 

see  before  him.  Also  here  he  in  a  I'our  of  death. 
great  measure  lost  his  senses,  so  that  he  could 
neither  remember  nor  orderly  talk  of  any  of 
those  sweet  refreshments  that  he  had  met  with 
in  the  way  of  his  pilgrimage.  But  all  the  words 
that  he  spoke  still  tended  to  discoyer  that  he 
had  horror  of  mind,  and  heart-fears  that  he 
should  die  in  that  riyer,  and  neyer  obtain  en- 
trance in  at  the  gate.  Here  also,  as  they  that 
stood  by  perceiyed,  he  was  much  in  the  troub- 
lesome thoughts  of  the  sins  that  he  had  com- 
mitted, both  since  and  before  he  began  to  be  a 
pilgrim.  It  was  also  obseryed  that  he  was 
troubled  w4th  apparitions  of  hobgoblins  and 
eyil  spirits ;  for  eyer  and  anon  he  would  inti- 
mate so  much  by  w^ords. 

Hopeful  therefore  here  had  much  ado  to 
keep  his  brother's  head  aboye  water;  yea, 
sometimes  he  would  be  quite  gone  down,  and 
then,  ere  a  while,  he  would  rise  up  again  half 
dead.  Hopeful  did  also  endeayor  to  comfort 
him,  saying,  "Brother,  I  see  the  gate,  and  men 
standing  by  to  receiye  us ;"'  but  Christian  would 
answer,  "It  is  you,  it  is  you  they  wait  for;  for 
you  have  been  hopeful  eyer  since  I  knew  you." 


Till-:  A  i>vi:i:sAi:  Y  oveiicomr.         3'.)1 

".Vnd  so  liavc  voii,"  said  lie  to  (lii'istiaii.  ■"  All. 
lii'ollicr."'  said  lio.  ''surely  if  1  was  riL:lit  lie 
would  now  arise  to  help  me;  but  for  my  sins 
lie  hath  broiiiiht  me  into  the  snare,  and  liath 
left  me."  Then  sai<l  Hopeful.  '"My  In-other, 
you  have  qnite  for^rot  the  text  where  it  is  said 
of  the  wicked,  'There  are  no  bands  in  their 
death,  but  tlieii-  strensth  is  firm:  they  are  not 
troubled  as  other  men,  neither  are  they  j)lap:ued 
like  other  men.'  Psa.  73  :  4,  5.  These  troubles 
and  distresses  that  you  _ao  throiiiih  in  these 
Avaters,  are  no  sign  that  God  hath  forsaken 
you ;  but  are  sent  to  try  yon,  whether  you  will 
call  to  mind  that  whieh  heretofore  you  have 
received  of  his  goodness,  and  live  uj>on  him  in 
your  distresses.*' 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian 
was  in  a  muse  a  while.  To  whom  also  Hope- 
ful added  these  words,  "Be  of  good  cheer; 
Jesus  Christ  maketli  thee  whole.""     And  with 

Christian  de-  that  Christian  broke  out  with  a  loud 

livered  from  liis 

lears  in  death,  yojee,  "Oil.  I  scc  liiui  agalu ;  and  he 
tells  inc.  'When  thou  passest  through  the  wa-" 
ters,  I  will  be  with  thee;  and  through  the 
rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow^  thee.' "  Isa. 
43:2.  Then  they  ])otli  took  courage,  and  the 
enemv  was  after  that  as  still  as  a  stone,  until 


392  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  were  gone  over.  Christian  therefore 
presently  found  ground  to  stand  upon,  and  so 
it  followed  that  the  rest  of  the  river  was  but 
shallow.     Thus  they  got  over. 

Now,  upon  the  bank  of  the  river,  on  the 
other  side,  they  saw  the  two  shining  men  again, 
who  there  waited  for  them.  Wherefore,  being 
come  out  of  the  river,  they  saluted    Thean^eisdo 

,,  .  iiTTT  •     '    1        •  wait  for  them  SO 

them,  saynio;,      VVe  are  mmistermp;  soonastiuyare 

'  "^        '^'  ^   passed    out    of 

spirits,   sent   forth    to   minister   for  ""'  '''°'"^'*- 
those  that  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation."     Thus 
they  went  along  tow^ards  the  gate. 

Now  you  must  note,  that  the  city  stood 
upon  a  mighty  hill ;  but  the  pilgrims  went  up 
that  hill  with  ease,  because  they  had  these  two 
men  to  lead  them  up  by  the  arms;  they  had 
likewise  left  their  mortal  garments  behind  them 
in  the  river;  for  though  they  went  offi^tilt^"* 
in  with  them,  they  came  out  without- them. 
They  therefore  went  up  here  with  much  agility 
and  speed,  though  the  foundation  upon  which 
the  city  was  framed  was  higher  than  the  clouds ; 
they  therefore  went  up  through  the  region  of 
the  air,  sweetly  talking  as  they  went,  being 
comforted  because  they  safely  got  over  the 
river,  and  had  such  glorious  companions  to 
attend  them. 


(;lui:v  uf  the  place.  :39:i 

The   talk   that  they  had  with   the  shining 
ones  was  abont   the  glory  of  the  pkiee;  who 
tokl  them  that  the  beauty  and  glory  of  it  was 
inexpressible.    "There,"'  said  they,  "is  'Mount 
Sion,  the  keavenly  Jerusalem,  the  innumerable 
company  of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made   perfect.'^    Heb.   12:22-24.      You  are 
going  now,"  said   tkey,    "to  the  paradise   of 
God,  wdierein  you  shall  see  tkc  tree  of  life, 
and  eat  of  the  never-fading  fruits  thereof:  and 
wdien  you  come  there  you  shall  have  white 
robes  given  you,  and  your  walk  and  talk  shall 
be  every  day  with  the  King,  even  all  the  days 
of  eternity.     Rev.  2  :  T  ;  3  :  4,  5  ;  22  : 5.    There 
you  shall  not  see  again  such  things  as  you  saw 
when  you  were  in  the  lower  region  upon  the 
earth,  to  wit,  sorrow,  sickness,  affliction,  and 
death ;  'for  the  former  things  are  passed  away.' 
Rev.  21  : 4.     You  are  going  now  to  Abraham, 
to  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  to  the  prophets,  men 
that  God  hath  taken  away  from  the  evil  to 
come,   and   that  are  now   'resting  upon  their 
beds,  each  one  walking  in  his  righteousness.' " 
The  men  then  asked,  "What  must  wt  do  in  the 
holy  place?"   To  whom  it  was  answered,  "You 
must  there  receive  the  comfort  of  all  your  toil 
and  have  joy  for  all  your  sorrow :  you  must 
17* 


394  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

reap  what  you  have  sown,  even  the  fruit  of  all 
your  prayers  and  tears  and  sufferings  for  the 
King  by  the  vx'ay.  Gal.  G  :  7,  8.  In  that  place 
you  must  wear  crowns  of  gold,  and  enjoy  the 
perpetual  sight  and  vision  of  the  Holy  One :  for 
'there  you  shall  see  him  as  he  is.'  1  John  3 :  2. 
There  also  3'ou  shall  serve  Him  continually 
with  praise,  with  shouting  and  thanksgiving, 
whom  you  desired  to  serve  in  the  world,  though 
Avith  much  difficultv,  because  of  the  infirmity 
of  your  flesh.  There  your  eyes  shall  be  de- 
lighted with  seeing,  and  your  ears  with  hear- 
ing the  pleasant  voice  of  the  Mighty  One. 
There  3'ou  shall  enjoy  3'our  friends  again  that 
are  gone  thither  before  you;  and  there  you 
shall  with  joy  receive  even  every  one  that  fol- 
lows into  the  holy  place  after  you.  There  also 
you  shall  be  clothed  with  glory  and  majesty, 
and  put  into  an  equipage  fit  to  ride  out  with 
the  King  of  glory.  When  he  shall  come  with 
sound  of  trumpet  in  the  clouds,  as  upon  the 
wings  of  the  wind,  you  shall  come  with  him ; 
and  when  he  shall  sit  upon  the  throne  of  judg- 
ment, 3'ou  shall  sit  by  him ;  yea,  and  when  he 
shall  pass  sentence  upon  all  the  workers  of 
iniquity,  let  them  be  angels  or  men,  you  also 
shall  have  a  voice  in  that  judgment,  because 


IIKAVKNLY  ESCORT.  395 

they  were  his  and  your  encniics.  Also,  Avlion 
he  shall  ag:ain  retiiru  to  the  city,  you  shall  iio 
too  \\ilh  sound  of  ti-uuiitet.  and  be  ever  with 
hiui.""  IThess.  1:14-17;  Jude  14,  15;  Dan. 
7:0.  10:  ICor.  G  :-2,  3. 

Now,  while  lliey  were  thus  drawing  towards 
the  gate,  behold  a  company  of  the  heavenly 
host  came  out  to  meet  them ;  to  whom  it  was 
said  by  the  other  two  shining  ones,  "These  are 
the  men  that  have  loved  our  Lord  when  they 
were  in  the  world,  and  that  have  left  all  for 
his  holy  name:  and  he  hath  sent  us  to  fetch 
them,  and  we  have  Ijrought  them  thus  far  on 
their  desired  Journey,  that  they  may  go  in  and 
look  their  Redeemer  in  the  face  with  joy." 
Then  the  heavenly  host  gave  a  great  shout, 
saying,  'Blessed  are  they  that  are  called  to 
the  marriage-supper  of  the  Land)."'  Revelation 
19:9.  There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to 
meet  them  several  of  the  King's  trum})eters, 
clothetl  in  white  and  shining  raiment,  who, 
with  melodious  noises  and  loud,  made  even 
the  heavens  to  echo  with  their  sound.  These 
tiMimpeters  saluted  Christian  and  his  felhiw 
with  ten  thousand  welcomes  from  the  world; 
and  this  they  did  with  shouting  and  sound  of 
trumpet. 


396  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

This  done,  they  compassed  them  round  on 
every  side ;  some  went  before,  some  behind,  and 
some  on  the  right  hand,  and  some  on  the  left, 
(as  it  were  to  guard  them  through  the  upper 
regions,)  continually  sounding  as  they  went, 
with  melodious  noise,  in  notes  on  high ;  so  that 
the  very  sight  was  to  them  that  could  behold 
it  as  if  heaven  itself  was  come  down  to  meet 
them.  Thus,  therefore,  they  walked  on  togeth- 
er ;  and  as  they  walked,  ever  and  anon  these 
trumpeters,  even  with  joyful  sound,  would,  by 
mixing  their  music  with  looks  and  gestures, 
still  signify  to  Christian  and  his  brother  how 
welcome  they  were  into  their  company,  and 
with  what  gladness  they  came  to  meet  them. 
And  now  were  these  two  men  as  it  were  in 
heaven  before  they  came  to  it,  being  swallow- 
ed up  with  the  sight  of  angels,  and  with  hear- 
ing of  their  melodious  notes.  Here  also  they 
had  the  city  itself  in  view;  and  they  thought 
they  heard  all  the  bells  therein  to  ring,  to  wel- 
come them  thereto.  But  above  all,  the  warm 
and  joyful  thoughts  that  they  had  about  their 
own  dwelling  there  with  such  company,  and 
that  for  ever  and  ever,  0  by  what  tongue  or 
pen  can  their  glorious  joy  be  expressed!  Thus 
they  came  up  to  the  gate. 


THE  GATE  OF  IIEAVEX.  397 

Xow  when  they  were  come  u\)  to  the  gate, 
there  was  written  over  it,  in  letters  of  gold, 

"BLESSED  AI;E  THEY  THAT  PO  IIIS  COMMANDMENTS, 
THAT  THEY  JIAY  HAVE  RIGHT  TO  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE, 
AND  MAY  ENTER  IN  THROUGH  THE  GATES  INTO  THE 
CITY." 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  shining 
men  bid  them  call  at  the  gate:  the  which  when 
they  did,  some  from  above  looked  over  the 
gate,  to  wit,  Enoch,  Moses,  and  p]lijah,  etc.,  to 
whom  it  was  said,  ''These  pilgrims  are  come 
from  the  city  of  Destrnction,  for  the  love  that 
they  bear  to  the  King  of  this  place  ;"  and  then 
the  pilgrims  gave  in  unto  them  each  man  his 
certificate,  which  they  had  received  in  the  be- 
ginning; those  therefore  were  carried  in  unto 
the  King,  who,  when  he  had  read  them,  said, 
"  Where  are  the  men  ?''  To  whom  it  was  an- 
swered, "They  are  standing  without  the  gate."' 
The  King  then  connnanded  to  open  the  gate, 
"That  the  righteous  nation,'"  said  he,  "that 
keepeth  the  truth  may  enter  in.*"     Isa.  2G  :2. 

Xow  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  two 
men  went  in  at  the  gate ;  and  lo,  as  they  enter- 
ed, they  were  transfigured ;  and  they  had  rai- 
ment put  on  that  shone  like  gold.  There  were 
also  that  met  them  with  harps  and  crowns,  and 


398  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

gave  them  to  them ;  the  harps  to  praise  withal, 
and  the  crowns  in  token  of  honor.  Then  I 
heard  in  my  dream,  that  all  the  bells  in  the 
city  rang  again  for  joy,  and  that  it  was  said 
anto  them, 

"ENTER  YE  INTO  THE  JOY  OF  YOUR  LORD." 

I  also  heard  the  men  themselves,  that  they 
sang  with  a  loud  voice,  saying, 

"BLESSING,  AND  HONOR,  AND  GLORY,  AND  POWER, 
BE  UNTO  HIM  THAT  SITTETH  UPON  THE  THRONE,  AND 
UNTO  THE  LAMB,  FOR  EVER  AND  EVER." 

Now,  just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let 
in  the  men,  I  looked  in  after  them,  and  behold, 
the  city  shone  like  the  sun;  the  streets  also 
were  paved  with  gold;  and  in  them  walked 
many  men,  with  crowns  on  their  heads,  palms 
in  their  hands,  and  golden  harps  to  sing  praises 
withal. 

There  were  also  of  them  that  had  wings, 
and  they  answered  one  another  without  inter- 
mission, saying,  "Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord.'' 
And  after  that  the}^  shut  up  the  gates ;  wiiich, 
when  I  had  seen,  I  wished  myself  among 
them. 

Now,  while  I  was  gazing  upon  all  these 
things,  I  turned  my  head  to  look  back,  and 


FATK  OF  KJNOHANCE.  3".»0 

saw  Ignorance  come  up  to  the  river  side ;  but 
isnorancc  lic  soon  g'ot  ovcr,  autl  that  without 

comes  up  to  tlie 

'•»•«'••  half  tlie  ditlicult y  whicli  the  other  two 

men  met  witli.  For  it  ha^jpened  that  there  was 
tlien  in  tliat  i)lace  one  Vain-hope,  a  ferryman, 
i-yrr^'liroveT  that  witli  liis  boat  help(Ml  liini  over; 
so  he,  as  the  others  1  saw,  did  ascend  the  hill, 
to  come  up  to  the  gate ;  only  he  came  alone, 
neither  did  any  man  meet  him  with  the  least 
encouragement.  When  he  was  come  up  to  the 
gate,  he  looked  up  to  the  v/riting  that  was 
above,  and  then  began  to  knock,  supposing  that 
entrance  should  have  been  quickly  administer- 
ed to  him ;  but  he  was  asked  by  (he  men  that 
looked  over  the  top  of  the  gate,  "Whence  come 
you  ?  and  what  would  you  have  ?"'  He  answer- 
ed, "I  have  ate  and  drank  in  the  presence  of 
the  King,  and  he  lias  taught  in  our  streets." 
Then  they  asked  him  for  his  certilicate,  that 
they  might  go  in  and  show  it  to  the  King;  so 
he  fumbled  in  his  bosom  for  one,  and  found 
none.  Then  said  they,  "Have  yon  none?''  but 
the  man  answered  never  a  word.  So  they  told 
the  King,  but  he  would  not  come  down  to  see 
him.  but  commanded  the  two  shining  ones  that 
conducted  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  the  city, 
to  go  out  and   take  iLrnorance.  and  bind  him 


400 


PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


hand  and  foot,  and  have  him  away.  Then 
they  took  him  up,  and  carried  him  through  the 
air  to  the  door  that  I  saw  in  the  side  of  the 
hill,  and  put  him  in  there.  Then  I  saw  that 
there  was  a  way  to  hell  even  from  the  gate  of 
heaven,  as  well  as  from  the  city  of  Destruction. 
So  I  awoke,  and  behold,  it  was  a  dream. 


CONCLUSION'.  401 


COXCLUSION. 


Now,  reader,  I  have  told  my  dream  to  thee, 

See  if  tliou  canst  interpret  it  to  me. 

Or  to  thyself,  or  neighbor  :  but  take  heed 

Of  misinterpreting- ;  for  that,  instead 

Of  doing  good,  will  but  thyself  abuse  : 

By  misinterpreting,  evil  ensues. 

Take  heed,  also,  that  thou  be  not  extreme 

In  playing  with  the  outside  of  my  dream  ; 

Nor  let  my  figure  or  similitude 

Put  thee  into  a  laughter,  or  a  feud. 

Leave  this  for  boys  and  fools ;  but  as  for  thee 

Do  thou  the  substance  of  my  matter  see.    • 

Put  by  the  curtains,  look  within  my  veil, 

Turn  up  my  metaphors,  and  do  not  fail. 

There,  if  thou  seekcst  them,  such  things  thou  'It  find 

As  will  be  helpful  to  an  honest  mind. 

What  of  my  dross  thou  findest  there,  be  bold 

To  throw  away,  but  j'et  preserve  the  gold. 

What  if  my  gold  be  wrapped  up  in  ore? 

None  throws  away  the  apple  for  the  core : 

But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 

I  know  not  but  't  will  make  me  dream  again. 


THE 

riLGlIDrS  PROGRESS 

KllUM 

THIS  WORLD  TO  THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME 

DELIVERED 

UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 


PAKT  II, 


WnEREIX  IS  SET  FORTH  THE  MANNER  OF  THE  SETTING  OUT 

OF  CHRISTIANS  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN,  THEIR  DAN 

GEKOUS  JOURNEY,  AND  SAFE  ARRIVAL  AT 

THE  DESIRED  COUNTRY. 

I  HAVE  USED  SIMILITUDES.     Hos.  12  :  10. 


THE 

AUTIIOirS  WAY 

OF 

SEx\DL\G  rOllTII  Ills  SECOND  PAllT 

OP 

THE  PILGRIM. 


Go  now,  my  little  Book,  to  every  place 
Where  my  first  Pilgrim  has  but  shown  his  face : 
Call  at  their  door  ;  if  any  say,  "  Who 's  there  V 
Then  answer  thou,  "Christiana  is  here." 
If  they  bid  thee  come  in,  then  enter  thou. 
With  all  tliy  boys  ;  and  then,  as  thou  knowest  how 
Tell  who  they  are,  also  from  whence  they  came  ; 
Perhaps  they  '11  know  them  by  their  looks,  or  name : 
But  if  they  should  not,  ask  them  yet  again, 
If  formerly  they  did  not  entertain 
One  Christian,  a  Pilgrim.     If  they  say 
They  did,  and  were  delighted  in  his  wa}-, 
Then  let  them  know  that  these  related  were 
Unto  him ;  yea,  his  wife  and  children  are. 

Tell  them  that  they  have  left  their  house  and  home  ; 
Are  turned  Pilgrims  ;  seek  a  world  to  come  : 
That  they  have  met  with  hardships  in  the  way ; 
That  they  do  meet  with  troubles  night  aud  day  ; 
That  they  have  trod  on  serpents  ;  fought  with  devils  ; 
Have  also  overcome  a  many  evils  : 
Yea,  tell  them  also  of  the  next  who  have, 
Of  love  to  pilgrimage,  been  stout  and  brave 


406  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Defenders  of  that  way  ;  and  how  they  still 

Kefuse  this  world  to  do  their  Father's  will. 

Go  tell  them  also  of  those  dainty  things 

That  pilgrimage  unto  the  Pilgrim  brings. 

Let  them  acquainted  be,  too,  how  they  arc 

Beloved  of  their  King,  under  his  care  ; 

What  goodly  mansions  he  for  them  provides  ; 

Though  they  meet  with  rough  winds  and  swelling  tides, 

How  brave  a  calm  they  will  enjoy  at  last, 

AVho  to  their  Lord  and  by  his  ways  hold  fast. 

Perhaps  with  heart  and  hand  they  will  embrace 
Thee,  as  they  did  my  firstling ;  and  will  grace 
Thee  and  thy  fellows  with  such  cheer  and  fare, 
As  show  well  they  of  pilgrims  lovers  are. 

OBJECTION  I. 

But  liOAV  if  they  will  not  believe  of  m9 
That  I  am  truly  thine  ?  'cause  some  there  be 
That  counterfeit  the  Pilgrim  and  his  name. 
Seek,  by  disguise,  to  seem  the  very  same ; 
And  by  that  means  have  wrought  themselves  into 
The  hands  and  houses  of  I  know  not  v/ho. 

ANSWER. 

'Tis  true,  some  have,  of  late,  to  counterfeit 
My  Pilgrim,  to  their  own  my  title  set ; 
Yea,  others  half  my  name,  and  title  too, 
Have  stitched  to  their  books,  to  make  them  do. 
But  yet  they,  by  their  features,  do  declare 
Themselves  not  mine  to  be,  whose  e'er  they  are. 

If  such  thou  meetest  with,  then  thine  only  way, 
Before  them  all,  is,  to  say  out  thy  say 
In  thine  own  native  language,  which  no  man 
Now  -useth,  nor  with  ease  dissemble  can. 


A V T 1 1(.) I : ■ .-  I X T p. 0 D r r t i o N" .  ■Wl 

If,  afler  nil,  tlicy  still  cf  you  .sliiill  doubt, 
'riiiiikiiig  that  you,  like  gypsies,  go  about 
lu  naughty  wise  the  country  to  defile. 
Or  that  you  seek  good  people  to  beguile 
^VitIl  things  unwarrantable,  send  for  mo, 
And  I  will  testify  you  pilgrims  be  ; 
Yea,  I  will  testify  that  only  you 
!My  pilgrims  are,  and  that  alone  Avill  do. 

OBJECTION  II. 

But  yet,  perhaps  I  may  inquire  f<jr  him 
Of  those  who  wish  him  damned  life  and  limb. 
AVhat  shall  I  do,  when  I  at  such  a  d(jor 
For  pilgrims  ask,  and  they  shall  rage  the  more  ? 

ANSWER. 

Fright  not  thyself,  ni}'  Book,  for  such  bugbears 
Arc  nothing  else  but  ground  for  groundless  fejirs, 
y[y  Pilgrim's  book  has  travelled  sea  and  land, 
Yet  could  I  never  come  to  understand 
That  it  was  slighted  or  turned  out  of  door 
By  any  kingdom,  were  they  rich  or  poor. 
In  France  and  Flanders,  where  men  kill  each  other, 
My  Pilgrim  is  esteemed  a  friend,  a  brother. 

In  ITulland,  too,  'tis  said,  as  I  am  told, 
My  Pilgrim  is,  with  some,  worth  more  than  gold. 
Highlanders  and  wild  Irish  can  agree 
My  Pilgrim  should  familiar  with  them  be. 

'Tis  in  New  England  under  such  advance, 
Receives  there  so  much  loving  countenance^ 
As  to  be  trimmed,  new  cVothed,  and  decked  with  gems. 
That  it  might  show  its  features,  and  its  limbs. 
Yet  more,  so  comely  doth  my  Pilgrim  walk. 
That  of  him  thousands  daily  sing  and  talk. 


408  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

If  you  draw  nearer  home,  it  will  appear 
My  Pilg-rim  knows  no  ground  of  shame  or  fear : 
City  and  country  will  him  entertain 
With,  Welcome,  Pilgrim  ;  yea,  they  can't  refrain 
From  smiling,  if  my  Pilgrim  be  but  by. 
Or  shows  his  head  in  any  company. 

Brave  gallants  do  my  Pilgrim  hug  and  love, 
Esteem  it  much,  yea,  value  it  above 
Things  of  a  greater  bulk  ;  yea,  with  delight 
Say,  my  lark's  leg  is  better  than  a  kite. 
Young  ladies,  and  young  gentlewomen  too. 
Do  not  small  kindness  to  my  Pilgrim  show  : 
Their  cabinets,  their  bosoms,  and  their  hearts, 
My  Pilgrim  has  ;  'cause  he  to  them  imparts 
His  pretty  riddles  in  such  wholesome  strains. 
As  yield  them  profit  double  to  their  pains 
Of  reading  ;  yea,  I  think  I  may  be  bold 
To  say,  some  prize  him  far  above  their  gold. 
The  very  children  that  do  walk  the  street. 
If  they  do  but  my  holy  Pilgrim  meet, 
Salute  him  will  ;  will  wish  him  well,  and  say, 
He  is  the  only  stripling  of  the  day. 

They  that  have  never  seen  him,  yet  admire 
What  they  have  heard  of  him,  and  much  desire 
To  have  his  company,  and  hear  him  tell 
Those  pilgrim  stories  which  he  knows  so  well. 

Yea,  some  that  did  not  love  him  at  the  first. 
But  called  him  fool  and  noddy,  say  they  must. 
Now  they  have  seen  and  heard  him,  him  commend.. 
And  to  those  whom  they  love  they  do  him  send. 

Wherefore,  my  Second  Part,  thou  need'st  not  be 
Afraid  to  show  thy  head :  none  can  hurt  thee. 
That  wish  but  well  to  him  that  went  before  ; 
'Cause  thou  comest  after  with  a  second  store 


ALTIIUKS  IXTKUDUCTIOX.  409 

Of  things  as  good,  as  rich,  as  profitable, 

For  young,  for  old,  for  staggering,  and  for  stable. 

OBJECTION  III. 

But  some  there  be  that  say,  lie  laughs  too  loud  ; 
And  some  do  say,  Ilis  head  is  in  a  cloud. 
Some  say,  Ilis  words  and  stories  are  so  dark, 
They  know  not  how,  by  them,  to  find  his  mark 

ANSWER. 
One  may,  I  think,  say,  Both  his  laughs  and  cries 
May  well  be  guessed  at  by  his  watery  eyes. 
Some  things  are  of  that  nature  as  to  make 
One's  fancy  chuckle,  while  his  heart  doth  ache  : 
AVhen  Jacob  saw  his  Ilachel  Avith  the  sheep, 
He  did  at  the  same  time  both  kiss  and  weep. 

Whereas  some  say,  A  cloud  is  in  his  head  ; 
That  doth  but  show  his  wisdom  's  covered 
With  his  own  mantle — and  to  stir  the  mind 
To  search  well  after  what  it  fain  would  find, 
Things  that  seem  to  be  hid  in  words  obscure 
Do  but  the  godly  mind  the  more  allure 
To  study  what  those  sayings  should  contain, 
That  speak  to  us  in  such  a  cloudy  strain. 
I  also  know  a  dark  similitude 
"Will  on  the  curious  fancy  more  intrude. 
And  will  stick  faster  in  the  heart  and  head, 
Than  things  from  similes  not  borrowed. 

Wherefore,  my  Book,  let  no  discouragement 
Hinder  thy  travels.     Behold,  thou  art  sent 
To  friends,  not  foes  ;  to  friends  that  will  give  place 
To  thee,  thy  pilgrims,  and  thy  words  embrace. 

Besides,  what  my  first  Pilgrim  left  concealed, 
Thou,  my  bravo  second  Pilgrim,  hast  revealed  ; 

ftt.  f.or  IS 


410  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

What  Christian  left  locked  up,  and  went  his  way, 
Sweet  Christiana  opens  with  her  key. 

OBJECTION  lY. 

But  some  love  not  the  method  of  your  first : 
Eomance  they  count  it ;  throw  't  away  as  dust. 
If  I  should  meet  with  such,  what  should  I  say  ? 
Must  I  slight  them  as  they  slight  me,  or  nay  ? 

ANSWER. 

My  Christiana,  if  with  such  thou  meet, 
By  all  means,  in  all  loving  wise  them  greet ; 
Render  them  not  reviling  for  revile. 
But,  if  they  frown,  I  prithee  on  them  smile  : 
Pei-haps  't  is  nature,  or  some  ill  report. 
Has  made  them  thus  despise,  or  thus  retort. 

Some  love  no  fish,  some  love  no  cheese,  and  some 
Love  not  their  friends,  nor  their  own  house  or  home  ; 
Some  start  at  pig,  slight  chicken,  love  not  fowl 
More  than  they  love  a  cuckoo  or  an  owl. 
Leave  such,  my  Christiana,  to  their  choice, 
And  seek  those  who  to  find  thee  will  rejoice  ; 
By  no  means  strive,  hut,  in  most  humble  wise, 
Present  thee  to  them  in  thy  Pilgrim's  guise. 

Go  then,  my  little  Book,  and  show  to  all 
That  entertain  and  bid  thee  welcome  shall. 
What  thou  shalt  keep  close  shut  up  from  the  rest ; 
And  wish  what  thou  shalt  show  them  may  be  blessed 
To  them  for  good,  and  make  them  choose  to  be 
Pilgrims,  by  better  far  than  thee  or  me. 
Go  then,  I  say,  tell  all  men  who  thou  art : 
Say,  "  I  am  Christiana  ;  and  my  part 
Is  now,  with  my  four  sons,  to  tell  you  what 
It  is  for  men  to  take  a  pilgrim's  lot." 


AUTHORS  INTRODUCTION.  411 

Go,  also,  tell  them  ■who  and  wliat  tliey  be 
That  now  do  go  on  pilgrimage  with  thcc  : 
Say,  "Here's  my  neighbor  Mercy  ;  she  is  one 
That  has  long  time  with  me  a  pilgrim  gone  : 
Come,  see  lier  in  her  virgin  face,  and  learn 
'Twixt  idle  ones  and  pilgrims  to  discern. 
Yea,  let  young  damsels  learn  of  her  to  prize 
The  world  whicli  is  to  come,  in  any  wise. 
Wlien  little  tripping  maidens  follow  God, 
And  leave  old  doting  sinners  to  his  rod, 
'T  is  like  those  days  wherein  the  young  ones  cried 
Hosanna  !  when  the  old  ones  did  deride." 

Next  tell  them  of  old  Honest,  whom  j'ou  found 
"With  his  white  hairs  treading  the  pilgrim's  ground  ; 
Yea,  tell  them  how  plain-hearted  this  man  was  ; 
How  after  his  good  Lord  he  bore  the  cross. 
Perhaps  with  some  grey  head,  this  may  prevail 
With  Christ  to  fall  in  love,  and  sin  bewail. 

Tell  them  also,  how  Master  Fearing  went 
On  pilgrimage,  and  how  the  time  he  spent 
In  solitariness,  with  fears  and  cries  ; 
And  how,  at  last,  he  won  the  joyful  prize. 
He  was  a  good  man,  though  much  down  in  spirit : 
He  is  a  good  man,  and  doth  life  inherit. 

Tell  them  of  Master  Feeble-mind  also. 
Who  not  before,  but  still  behind  would  go. 
Show  them  also,  how  he  had  like  been  slain. 
And  how  one  Great-heart  did  his  life  regain. 
This  man  was  true  of  heart ;  though  weak  in  grace, 
One  might  true  godliness  read  in  his  face. 

Then  tell  them  of  Master  Ready-to-halt, 
A  man  with  crutches,  but  much  without  fault. 
Tell  them  how  Master  Feeble-mind  and  he 
Did  love,  and  in  opinion  much  agree. 

Pil   rroj 


412  I'ILGKIM'3   PROGREyS. 

And  let  all  know,  though  weakness  was  their  chance, 
Yet  sometimes  one  could  sing,  the  other  dance. 

Forget  not  Master  Valiant-for-thc-truth, 
That  man  of  courage,  though  a  very  youth  : 
Tell  every  one  his  spirit  was  so  stout, 
No  man  could  over  make  him  face  about ; 
And  how  Great-heart  and  he  could  not  forbear, 
But  pull  down  Doubting  Castle,  slay  Despair. 

Overlook  not  Master  Despondency, 
Nor  Much-afraid  his  daughter,  thougli  they  lie 
Under  such  mantles,  as  may  make  them  look, 
With  some,  as  if  their  God  had  them  forsook. 
They  softly  went,  but  sure  ;  and,  at  the  end. 
Found  that  the  Lord  of  pilgrims  was  their  friend. 
When  thou  hast  told  the  world  of  all  these  things, 
Tlien  turn  about,  my  Book,  and  touch  these  strings ; 
Which,  if  but  touched,  will  such  music  make. 
They  '11  make  a  cripple  dance,  a  giant  quake. 

Those  riddles  that  lie  couched  within  thy  breast, 
Freely  propound,  expound  ;  and  for  the  rest 
Of  ihy  mysterious  lines,  let  them  remain 
For  those  whose  nimble  fancies  sliall  them  gain. 

Now  may  this  little  book  a  blessing  be 
To  those  who  love  this  little  book  and  me  ; 
And  may  its  buyer  have  no  cause  to  say, 
Ilis  money  is  but  lost  or  thrown  away. 
Yea,  may  this  second  Pilgrim  yield  that  fruit 
As  may  with  each  good  pilgrim's  fancy  suit ; 
And  may  it  some  persuade,  that  go  astray. 
To  turn  their  feet  and  heart  to  the  right  way, 
Is  the  hearty  prayer  of 

The  author, 

JOHN  BUNTAN. 


IN  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A   DREAM. 


PART  II. 


Courteous  Compaxioxs — Some  time  since, 
(o  tell  Yoii  my  dream  that  I  had  of  Christian 
the  pilgrim,  and  of  his  dangerous  journey  tow- 
ards the  celestial  country,  was  pleasant  to  me 
and  profitable  to  you.  I  told  you  then  also 
what  I  saw  concerning  his  wife  and  children, 
and  how  unwilling  they  were  to  go  with  him 
on  pilgrimage ;  insomuch  that  he  was  forced  to 
go  on  his  progress  without  them ;  for  he  durst 
not  run  the  danger  of  that  destruction  which 
he  feared  would  come  bv  stavin^r  with  them  in 


414  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  city  of  Destruction:  wherefore,  as  I  then 
showed  you,  he  left  them  and  departed. 

Now  it  hath  so  happened,  through  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  business,  that  I  have  been  much 
hindered  and  kept  back  from  my  wonted  trav- 
els into  those  parts  whence  he  went,  and  so 
could  not,  till  now,  obtain  an  opportunity  to 
make  further  inquir}^  after  those  whom  he  left 
behind,  that  I  might  give  you  an  account  of 
them.  But  having  had  some  concerns  that 
way  of  late,  I  went  down  again  thitherward. 
Now,  having  taken  up  my  lodging  in  a  wood 
about  a  mile  off  the  place,  as  I  slept,  I  dreamed 
again. 

And  as  I  was  in  my  dream,  behold,  an  aged 
gentleman  came  by  where  I  lay ;  and  because 
he  was  to  go  some  part  of  the  way  that  I  was 
travelling,  methought  I  got  up  and  went  with 
him.  So,  as  we  walked,  and  as  travellers 
usually  do,  I  was  as  if  we  fell  into  a  discourse ; 
and  our  talk  happened  to  be  about  Christian 
and  his  travels;  for  thus  I  began  with  the  old 
man: 

"Sir,"  said  I,  "what  town  is  that  there 
below,  that  lieth  on  the  left  hand  of  our  way  ?" 

Then  said  Mr.  Sagacity,  (for  that  was  his 
name,)  "It  is  the  city  of  Destruction,  a  popu- 


CIIIIISTIAX-S   PILCRI.MAGE.  415 

lous  place,  hut  possessed  with  a  very  ill-condi- 
tioned and  idle  sort  of  people." 

'I  thought  that  was  that  city,"'  quoth  T;  "I 
went  once  myself  through  that  town  ;  and  there- 
fore know  that  this  report  you  give  of  it  is 
true.*' 

Sagacity.  Too  true.  I  wish  I  could  speak 
truth  in  speaking  better  of  them  that  dwell 
therein. 

"Well,  sir,"  quoth  I,  "then  I  perceive  3'ou 
to  be  a  well-meaning  man,  and  so  one  that 
takes  pleasure  to  hear  and  tell  of  that  which  is 
good.  Pray,  did  you  never  hear  Avhat  hap- 
pened to  a  man  some  time  ago  of  this  town, 
whose  name  was  Christian,  that  went  on  a  pil- 
grimage up  towards  the  higher  regions?"' 

Sag.  Hear  of  him  ?  aye,  and  I  also  heard 
of  the  molestations,  troubles,  wars,  captivities, 
cries,  groans,  frights,  and  fears,  that  he  met 
with  and  had  on  his  journey.  Besides,  I  must 
tell  you  all  our  country  rings  of  him  ;  there  are 
but  few  houses  that  have  heard  of  him  and  his 
doings,  but  have  sought  after  and  got  the  rec- 
ords of  his  pilgrimage ;  yea,  I  think  I  may  say 
that  his  hazardous  journey  has  got  many  well- 
wishers  to  his  ways ;  for  though  when  he  was 
here  he  was  fool  in  everv  man"s  mouth,  vet 


416  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

now  he  is  gone  he  is  highly  commended  of  all. 
For  'tis  said  he  lives  bravely  Avhere    christians  are 

•^  well  spoken    of 

'he  is:  yea,  many  of  them  that  are  Jli^i,gh   cMed 

.  -,        I'ools  while  they 

resolved  never  to  run  his  hazards,  are  here. 
yet  have  their  mouths  water  at  his  gains. 

"They  ma}^,"  quoth  I,  "well  think,  if  they 
think  any  thing  that  is  true,  that  he  liveth  well 
where  he  is;  for  he  now  lives  at,  and  in  the 
Fountain  of  life,  and  has  what  he  has  without 
labor  and  sorrow,  for  there  is  no  grief  mixed 
therewith.  But  pray,  what  talk  have  the  peo- 
ple about  him  ?" 

Sag.  Talk  ?  the  people  talk  strangely  about 
him:  some  say  that  he  now  walks  in  white, 
Eev.  3  : 4,  that  he  has  a  chain  of  gold  about 
his  neck,  that  he  has  a  crown  of  gold,  beset 
with  pearls,  upon  his  head;  others  say  that 
the  shining  ones,  who  sometimes  showed  them- 
selves to  him  in  his  journey,  are  become  his 
companions,  and  that  he  is  as  familiar  with 
them,  in  the  place  where  he  is,  as  here  one 
neighbor  is  with  another.  Besides,  it  is  confi- 
dently affirmed  concerning  him,  that  the  King 
of  the  place  where  he  is  has  bestowed  upon' 
him  already  a  very  rich  and  pleasant  dwelling 
at  court,  and  that  he  every  day  eateth  and 
drinketh,  and  walketh  and  talketh  with  him, 


HArriNESS  OF   CHRISTIAN'.  417 

and  rcccivclli  of  the  smiles  and  favors  of  him 
Ihat  is  Judge  of  all  there.  Zech.  3:7;  Luke 
14  :  14,  15.  Moreover,  it  is  expected  of  some, 
that  his  Prince,  the  Lord  of  that  country,  will 
shortly  come  into  these  parts,  and  will  know 
the  reason,  if  they  can  give  any,  wh}-  his  neigh- 
bors set  so  little  by  him,  and  had  him  so  much 
in  derision  when  they  perceived  that  he  would 
be  a  pilgrim.  Judc  14,  1-5.  For  they  say, 
that  now  he  is  so  in  the  affections  of  his  Prince. 

Christians  that  hls  SovereiGTU  is  so  much  con- 
Kin;;      liunors 

chiistiau.  cerned  with  the  indignities  that  wera 
cast  upon  Christian  when  he  became  a  pilgrim, 
that  he  will  look  upon  all  as  if  done  unto  him- 
self, Luke  10:10;  and  no  marvel,  for  it  was 
for  the  love  that  he  had  to  his  Prince  that  he 
ventured  as  he  did. 

"  I  dare  say,"'  quoth  I;  '^I  am  glad  on  "t;  I 
am  glad  for  the  poor  man's  sake,  for  that  now 
he  has  rest  from  his  labor,  and  for  that  he  now 
reapeth  the  benefit  of  his  tears  with  joy;  and 
for  that  he  has  got  beyond  the  gunshot  of  his 
enemies,  and  is  out  of  the  reach  of  them  that 
hate  him.  Rev.  14  :  13  ;  Pia.  12G  :  5,  G.  I  also 
am  glad  for  that  a  rumor  of  these  things  is 
noised  abroad  in  this  country;  who  can  tell 
but  that  it  may  work  some  good  effect  on  some 

18'^ 


418  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  are  left  behind  ?  But  pray,  sir,  while  it  is 
fresh  in  my  mind,  do  you  hear  any  thing  of  his 
wife  and  children  ?  Poor  hearts,  I  wonder  in 
my  mind  what  they  do."' 

Sag.  Who?  Christiana  and  her  sons?  They 
are  like  to  do  as  well  as  Christian  of^°ain-sti!rr?s 
did  himself;  for  though  they  all  play-  a^l ""''  "''^'' 
ed  the  fool  at  first,  and  Avould  by  no  means  be 
persuaded  by  either  the  tears  or  entreaties  of 
Christian,  yet  second  thoughts  have  wrought 
wonderfully  with  them ;  so  they  have  packed 
up,  and  are  also  gone  after  him. 

"Better  and  better,"  quoth  I;  "but  what, 
wife  and  children  and  all  ?'' 

Sag.  It  is  true ;  I  can  give  3'ou  an  account 
of  the  matter,  for  I  was  upon  the  spot  at  the 
instant,  and  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
whole  affair. 

"Then,"  said  I,  "a  man,  it  seems,  may  re- 
port it  for  a  truth." 

Sag.  You  need  not  fear  to  affirm  it :  I  mean, 
that  they  are  all  gone  on  pilgrimage,  both  the 
good  woman  and  her  four  boys.  And  being 
we  are,  as  I  perceive,  going  some  considerable 
way  together,  I  will  give  you  an  account  of  the 
whole  of  the  matter. 

This  Christiana,    (for  that  was  her  name 


nilUSTIANA    I'KXITKXT.  410 

from  till'  (lay  (hat  slio  with  lici-  cliildi'cii  Ix'took 
tlu'insclvi's  to  a  piluriiii's  lilV'.)  al'ti'i-  licr  hus- 
band was  gone  over  the  river,  and  she  eould 
hear  of  him  no  more,  her  thoii.i2,hts  began  to 
work  in  her  mind.  First,  for  that  she  had  lost 
her  husband,  and  for  that  the  loving  bond  of 
that  relation  was  utterly  broken  between  them. 
''For  yon  know,"  said  he  to  me,  "nature  can 
do  no  less  but  entertain  the  living  with  many 
a  heavy  cogitation,  in  the  remembrance  of  the 
loss  of  loving  relations."'  This,  therefore,  of 
thararc^churis  ^^^^*  husbaiid  did  cost  her  many  a 
relations.  ^"'"^  tcar.  But  tliis  was  not  all ;  for  Chris- 
tiana did  also  begin  to  consider  with  herself, 
whether  her  nnbecoming  behavior  towards  her 
husband  was  not  one  cansc  that  she  saw  him 
no  more,  and  that  in  such  sort  he  was  taken 
away  from  her.  And  ujion  this  came  into  her 
mind,  by  swarms,  all  her  unkind,  unnatural,  and 
ungodly  carriage  to  her  dear  friend  ;  which  also 
clogged  her  conscience,  and  did  load  her  with 
guilt.  She  w\as,  moreover,  much  broken  with 
recalling  to  remembrance  the  restless  groans, 
brinish  tears,  and  self-bemoanings  of  her  hu.s- 
band,  and  how  she  did  harden  her  heart  ag^ainst 
all  his  entreaties  and  loving  persuasions  other 
an<l  her  sons  to  go  with  him;  }ea,  there  was 


420  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

not  any  thing  that  Christian  either  said  to  her, 
or  did  before  her,  all  the  while  that  his  burden 
did  hang  on  his  back,  but  it  returned  upon  her 
like  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  rent  the  caul  of 
her  heart  in  sunder ;  especially  that  bitter  out- 
cry of  his,  "What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?''  did 
ring  in  her  ears  most  dolefully. 

Then  said  she  to  her  children,  "Sons,  we 
arc  all  undone.  I  have  sinned  away  your  fa- 
ther, and  he  is  gone:  he  would  have  had  us 
with  him,  but  I  would  not  go  myself:  I  also 
have  hindered  you  of  life."  With  that  the 
boys  fell  into  tears,  and  cried  out  to  go  after 
their  father.  "Oh,"  said  Christiana,  "  that  it 
had  been  but  our  lot  to  go  with  him !  then  had 
it  fared  well  with  us,  beyond  what  it  is  like 
to  do  now.  For  though  I  formerly  foolishly 
imagined,  concerning  the  troubles  of  your  fa- 
ther, that  they  proceeded  of  a  foolish  fancy 
that  he  had,  or  for  that  he  was  overrun  with 
melancholy  humors,  yet  now  it  will  not  out  of 
my  mind  but  that  they  sprang  from  another 
cause ;  to  wit,  for  that  the  light  of  life  was  given 
him,  James  1 :  23-25  ;  John  8:12;  by  the  help 
of  which,  as  I  perceive,  he  has  escaped  the  snares 
of  death."  Prov.  14  :  27.  Then  they  all  wept 
again,  and  cried  out.  "Oh,  woe  worth  the  day!" 


CHRIST  I  AX  AS   DRKAM.  421 

The  next  iiiuht  Cliristiaiia  liad  a  drcaiii ;  and 
drcan';.'"'""''  bfliold,  slic  saw  as  if  a  ])n)ad  pai-cli- 
mcnt  was  ojxMied  belurc  her,  in  wliich  were 
recorded  tlie  sum  of  her  ways;  and  the  crimes 
as  she  thouulit,  looked  very  bhick  upon  her. 
Then  she  cried  out  aloud  in  her  sleep,  "Lord, 
have  mercy  upon  me  a  sinner!"'  Luke  18:13; 
and  the  little  children  heard  her. 

After  this  she  thought  she  saw  two  ver}" 
ill-favored  ones  standing  by  her  bedside,  and 
saying,  ''What  shall  we  do  with  this  woman? 

this: this  for  she  cries  out  for  mercv,  waking 


Mark 
is    tile    (]iiintcs- 
st.-ncc  of  hell. 


O 


and  sleei)ing:  if  she  be  suffered  to 
go  on  as  she  begins,  wc  shall  lose  her  as  we 
have  lost  her  husband.  Wherefore  we  must, 
by  one  way  or  other,  seek  to  take  her  off  from 
the  thoughts  of  what  shall  be  hereafter,  else  all 
the  Avorld  cannot  help  but  she  will  become  a 
pilgrim.'' 

Xow  she  awoke  in  a  great  sweat,  also  a 
trembling  was  upon  her;  but  after  a  while  she 
fell  to  sleeping  again.  And  then  she  thought 
she  saw  Christian,  her  husband,  in  a  place  of 
depresIioT'"'*  bli.ss  among  many  immortals,  witii  a, 
harp  in  his  hand,  standing  and  playing  npon 
it  Ijefore  One  that  sat  on  a  throne  with  a  rain- 
bow about  his  head.     She  saw  also,  as  if  he 


422  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

bowed  his  head  with  his  face  to  the  paved  work 
that  was  under  his  Prince's  feet,  saying,  "I 
heartily  thank  my  Lord  and  King  for  bringing 
me  into  this  place."  Then  shouted  a  company 
of  them  that  stood  round  about,  and  harped 
with  their  harps ;  but  no  man  living  could  tell 
what  they  said  but  Christian  and  his  compan- 
ions. 

Next  morning,  when  she  was  up,  had  prayed 
to  God,  and  talked  with  her  children  a  while, 
one  knocked  hard  at  the  door ;  to  whom  she 
spoke  out,  saying,  "  If  thou  comest  in  God's 
name,  come  in."  So  he  said,  "Amen;"  and 
opened  the  door,  and  saluted  her  with,  "Peace 
be  to  this  house."  The  which  when  he  had 
done,  he  said,  "Christiana,  knowest  thou  where- 
fore I  am  come  ?"  Then  she  blushed  and  trem- 
bled ;  also  her  heart  began  to  wax  warm  with 
desires  to  .know  from  w^hence  he  came,  and 
what  was  his  errand  to  her.  So  he  said  unto 
her,  "My  name  is  Secret;  I  dwell  with  those 
that  are  on  high.  It  is  talked  of  where  I  dwell 
as  if  thou  hadst  a  desire  to  go  thither:  also 
there  is  a  report  that  thou  art  aware      convictions 

seconded  by  tid- 

of  the  evd  thou  hast  formerly  done  i"gs  of  God's 

^  readiness  to  par- 

to  thy  husband,  in  hardening  of  thy  *'°°- 
heart  against  his  way,  and  in  keeping  of  these 


C1IKI::;TIANA   INVITED.  423 

babes  in  llicir  ignorance.  Christiana,  llie  ^^Fer- 
eiful  One  hath  sent  me  to  tell  thee,  that  he  is 
a  God  ready  to  forgive,  and  that  he  taketh 
delight  to  mnltiply  the  pardon  of  offences,  lie 
also  would  have  thee  to  know,  that  he  inviteth 
thee  to  come  into  his  presence,  to  his  table, 
and  that  he  will  feed  thee  with  the  fat  of  his 
house,  and  with  the  heritage  of  Jacob  thy  fa- 
ther. 

"  There  is  Christian,  thy  husband  that  was, 
with  legions  more,  his  companions,  ever  behold- 
ing that  face  that  doth  minister  life  to  behold- 
ers, and  they  will  all  be  glad  when  they  shall 
hear  the  sound  of  thy  feet  step  over  thy  Fa- 
ther's threshold.*' 

Christiana  at  this  was  greatly  abashed  in 
herself,  and  bowed  her  head  to  the  ground. 
This  visitor  proceeded,  and  said,  ''Christiana, 
here  is  also  a  letter  for  thee,  which  I  have 
brought  from  thy  husband's  King."'  So  she 
took  it,  and  opened  it,  but  it  smelt  after  the 
manner  of  the  best  perfume.  Song  1:3.  Also 
it  was  written  in  letters  of  gold.  The  contents 
of  the  letter  were  these:  that  "the  King  would 
have  her  to  do  as  did  Christian  her  husband; 
for  that  was  the  way  to  come  to  his  city,  and 
to  dwell  in  his  presence  with  joy  for  ever." 


424  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

At  this  the  good  woman  was  quite  overcome; 
so  she  cried  out  to  her  visitor,  "Sir,  quite oveJxome* 
will  you  carry  me  and  my  children  with  you, 
that  we  also  may  go  and  worship  the  King  ?" 

Then  said  the  visitor,  "Christiana,  the  bit- 
ter is  before  the  sweet.  Thou  must  through 
troubles,  as  did  he  that  went  before  thee,  enter 
this  celestial  city.     Wherefore  I  ad-     Further   iu- 

sfnictinns        to 

vise  thee  to  do  as  did  Christian  thy  <-ii"stiana. 
husband;  go  to  the  wicket-gate  yonder,  over 
the  plain,  for  that  stands  at  the  head  of  the 
way  up  which  thou  must  go;  and  I  wish  thee 
all  good  speed.  Also  I  advise  that  thou  put 
this  letter  in  thy  bosom,  that  thou  read  therein 
to  thyself  and  to  thy  children  until  you  have 
got  it  by  heart ;  for  it  is  one  of  the  songs  that 
thou  must  sing  while  thou  art  in  this  house  of 
thy  pilgrimage,  Psa.  119:54;  also  this  thou 
must  deliver  in  at  the  further  gate."' 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  this  old  gen- 
tlemen, as  he  told  me  the  story,  did  himself 
seem  to  be  greatly  affected  therewith.  He 
moreover  proceeded,  and  said.  So  prayshcJ-So 
Christiana  called  her  sons  together,  Jf^y^  *''^""  •"'"''■ 
and  began  thus  to  address  herself  unto  them: 
"My  sons,  I  have,  as  you  may  perceive,  been 
of  late  under  much  exercise  in  mv  soul  about 


VISIT  OF  XEIGHIJOHS.  425 

the  death  of  your  father:  not  for  that  I  doubt 
at  all  of  his  happiness,  for  I  am  satisfied  now 
that  he  is  well.  I  have  also  been  mueli  affected 
with  the  thoughts  of  my  own  state  and  yours, 
which  I  verily  believe  is  by  nature  miserable. 
My  carriage  also  to  your  father  in  his  distress 
is  a  great  load  to  my  conscience ;  for  I  harden- 
ed both  my  own  heart  and  3'ours  against  him, 
and  refused  to  go  with  him  on  pilgrimage. 

"The  thoughts  of  these  things  would  now 
kill  me  outright,  but  for  a  dream  which  I  had 
last  night,  and  Ijut  for  the  encouragement  wliich 
this  stranger  has  given  me  this  morniug.  Come, 
my  children,  let  us  pack  up,  and  begone  to  the 
gate  that  leads  to  the  celestial  country,  that 
we  may  see  your  father,  and  be  with  him  and 
his  companions  in  peace,  according  to  the  laws 
of  that  land." 

Then  did  her  children  burst  out  into  tears, 
for  joy  that  the  heart  of  their  mother  was  so 
inclined.  So  their  visitor  bid  them  Airewell; 
and  they  began  to  prepare  to  set  out  for  their 
journey. 

Ikit  while  they  were  thus  about  to  be  gone, 
Timorou. ami  two  of  thc  wouicu  that  wcrc  Chris- 

Jfrrcy  roiiio  to 

visit  Christiana,  tiaua's  ucighbors  came  up  to  her 
house,   and  knocked  at  her  door.     To  whom 


426  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

she  said  as  before,  "If  you  come  in  God's 
name,  come  in."     At  this  the  wom-  „   Christiana's 

'  new     language 

en  were  stunned ;  for  this  kind  of  neighbors':  ''^'^ 
language  they  used  not  to  hear,  or  to  per- 
ceive to  drop  from  the  lips  of  Christiana.  Yet 
they  came  in:  but  behold,  they  found  the 
good  woman  preparing  to  be  gone  from  her 
house. 

So  they  began,  and  said,  "  Neighbor,  pray 
what  is  your  meaning  by  this  ?" 

Christiana  answered,  and  said  to  the  eldest 
of  them,  whose  name  was  Mrs.  Timorous,  "I 
am  preparing  for  a  journey." 

This  Timorous  was  daughter  to  him  that 
met  Christian  upon  the  hill  of  Difficulty,  and 
would  have  had  him  go  back  for  fear  of  the 
lions. 

Tim.  For  what  Journey,  I  pray  you  ? 

Chr.  Even  to  go  after  my  good  husband. 

And  with  that  she  fell  a  weeping. 

Tim.  I  hope  not  so,  good  neighbor;  pray, 
for  3'our  poor  children's  sake,  do  not  so  un- 
womanly cast  away  yourself.  / 

Chr.  Nay,  my  children  shall  go  with  me; 
not  one  of  them  is  willing  to  stay  behind. 

Tim.  I  wonder  in  my  very  heart  what  or 
who  has  brought  you  into  this  mind. 


THE  PRINCE'S  LETTER.  427 

CiiR.  0  neighbor,  knew  you  but  as  much 
as  I  do,  I  doubt  not  but  that  you  would  go 
along  with  me. 

Tim.  Prithee,  what  new  knowledge  hast 
thou  got,  that  so  worketh  ofT  thy  mind  from 
thy  friends,  and  that  tempteth  tliee  to  go  no- 
body knows  where  ? 

Then  Christiana  replied,  "I  have  been  sore- 
ly afflicted  since  my  husband's  departure  from 
Death.  me ;  but  specially  since  he  went  over 
the  river.  But  that  which  troubleth  me  most 
is,  my  churlish  carriage  to  him  when  he  was 
under  his  distress.  Besides,  I  am  now  as  he 
was  then;  nothing  will  serve  me  but  going  on 
pilgrimage.  I  was  dreaming  last  night  that  I 
saw  him.  0  that  my  soul  was  with  him!  He 
dwelleth  in  the  presence  of  the  King  of  the 
country;  he  sits  and  eats  with  him  at  his  table; 
he  is  become  a  companion  of  immortals,  and 
has  a  house  now  given  him  to  dwell  in,  to 
which  the  best  palace  on  earth,  if  comi)ared, 
seems  to  me  but  as  a  dunghill.  2  Cor.  5  : 1-4. 
The  Prince  of  the  place  has  also  sent  for  me, 
with  promise  of  entertainment,  if  I  shall  come 
to  him ;  his  messenger  was  here  even  now,  and 
has  brought  me  a  letter,  which  invites  me  to 
come."     And  with  that  she  plucked  out  her 


428  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

letter,  and  read  it,  and  said  to  them,  "What 
now  will  you  say  to  this  ?" 

Tim.  Oh  the  madness  that  has  possessed 
thee  and  thy  husband,  to  run  3'ourselves  upon 
such  difficulties.  You  have  heard,  I  am  sure, 
what  your  husband  did  meet  with,  even  in  a 
manner  at  the  first  step  that  he  took  on  his 
way,  as  our  neighbor  Obstinate  can  yet  testify, 
for  he  went  along  with  him ;  yea,  and  Pliable 
too,  until  they,  like  wise  men,  were  afraid  to 
go  any  further.  We  also  heard,  over  onhlHe.""'"^" 
and  above,  how  he  met  with  the  lions,  Apollyon, 
the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  many  other  things. 
Nor  is  the  danger  that  he  met  with  in  Vanity 
Fair  to  be  forgotten  by  thee.  For  if  he,  though 
a  man,  was  so  hard  put  up  to  it,  what  canst 
thou,  being  but  a  poor  woman,  do  ?  Consider 
also,  that  these  four  sweet  babes  are  thy  chil- 
dren, thy  flesh  and  thy  bones.  Wherefore, 
though  thou  shouldest  be  so  rash  as  to  cast 
away  thyself,  yet,  for  the  sake  of  the  fruit  of 
thy  body,  keep  thou  at  home. 

But  Christiana  said  unto  her,  "Tempt  me 
not,  my  neighbor :  I  have  now  a  price  put  into 
my  hands  to  get  gain,  and  I  should  be  a  fool 
of  the  greatest  size  if  I  should  have  no  heart  to 
strike  in  with  the  opportunity.     And  for  that 


MKKCV    AT   A   STAND.  -129 

you  tell  mc  of  all  these  troubles  which  I  am  like 
A   pertinent  to  lucct  wlth  ju  thc  Ava}',  thcv  ai'c  so 

reply  to  llcshlv  "  " 

reusoning.  f^^.  fj-Qm  ]jeing  to  inc  a  discourage- 
ment, that  they  show  I  am  in  thc  right.  Thc 
bitter  must  come  before  the  sweet,  and  that 
also  will  make  thc  sweet  the  sweeter.  AVherc- 
fore,  since  you  came  not  to  my  house  in  God's 
name,  as  I  said,  I  pray  you  to  be  gone,  and 
not  to  disquiet  me  further."' 

Then  Timorous  reviled  her,  and  said  to  her 
fellow,  "Come,  neighbor  Mercy,  let  us  leave 
her  in  her  own  hands,  since  she  scorns  our 
counsel  and  company."  But  Mercy  was  at  a 
stand,  and  could  not  so  readily  comply  with 
Mercys  bow-  hcr  ucighbor ;  and  that  for  a  twofold 

cls    yuani   over 

christiaua.  roasou.  Flrst,  her  bowels  yearned 
over  Christiana.  So  she  said  within  herself, 
''If  my  neighbor  will  needs  be  gone,  I  will  go 
a  little  way  with  her,  and  help  her."  Second, 
her  bowels  yearned  over  her  own  soul;  for 
what  Christiana  had  said  had  taken  some  hold 
upon  her  mind.  "Wherefore  she  said  within 
herself  again,  ''I  will  yet  have  more  talk  with 
this  Christiana ;  and,  if  I  find  truth  and  life  in 
what  she  shall  say,  I  myself  with  my  heart 
shall  also  go  with  her."'  "Wherefore  Mercy 
began  thus  to  reply  to  her  neighbor  Timorous: 


430  riLGRIM'S  rROGRESS. 

Mer.  Xciglibor,  I  did  indeed  come  with  you 
to  see  Christiana  this  morning;  and  since  she 
is,  as  you  see,  taking  her  last  farewell  of  the 
country,  I  think  to  walk  this  sunshiny  morning 
a  little  with  her,  to  help  her  on  her  waj- . 

But  she  told  her  not  of  her  second  reason, 
but  kept  it  to  herself. 

Tim.  Well,  I  see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  a 
fooling  too ;  but  take  heed  in  time,  and  be  wise : 
while  we  are  out  of  danger,  we  are  out;  but 
when  we  are  in,  we  are  in. 

So  Mrs.  Timorous  returned  to  her  house, 
and  Christiana  betook  herself  to  her  journey. 
But  when  Timorous  was  got  home  to  ^  Jef  Tr '  uit 

hi  1  1       i»  r  1  Jlei'Cy     cleaves 

er  house,  she  sends  lor  some  ot  her  to  her. 

neighbors,  to  wit,  Mrs.  Bat's-eyes,  Mrs.  Incon- 
siderate, Mrs.  Light-mind,  and  Mrs.  Know- 
nothing.  So  when  they  were  come  Timorous 
to  her  house,  she  falls  to  tellins:  of  iviemis  what  the 

^  good  (  hristiaiia 

the  story  of  Christiana,  and  of  her  •"''^"'>^*"^" 
intended  journey.      And  thus  she  began  her 
tale  : 

Tim.  Neighbors,  having  had  little  to  do  this 
morning,  I  went  to  give  Christiana  a  visit;  and 
when  I  came  at  the  door  I  knocked,  as  you 
know  it  is  our  custom;  and  she  answered,  "If 
you  come  in  God's  name,  come  in."     So  in  I 


MI?S.   BATS-EYES-  OPINION.  431 

wont,  (liinkinpr  all  was  ^Yell;  but  when  I  eamc 
in,  1  found  lier  proi)aring  herself  to  de})art  the 
town,  she,  and-  also  her  ehildren.  So  I  asked 
her  what  was  her  meaning  by  that.  And  she 
fold  me,  in  short,  that  she  was  now  of  a  mind 
to  go  on  pilgrimage,  as  did  her  husband.  She 
told  me  also  of  a  dream  that  she  had,  and  how 
the  King  of  the  country  where  her  husband 
Avas,  had  sent  an  inviting  letter  to  come  thither. 

Then  said  Mrs.  Know-nothing,  "And  what, 
noulTng,^'"''''"  tlo  yoii  think  she  will  go  ?"' 

Tim.  Aye,  go  she  will,  whatever  comes 
on't;  and  methinks  I  know  it  by  this;  for 
that  which  was  my  great  argument  to  persuade 
her  to  stay  at  home,  to  wit,  the  troubles  she 
was  like  to  meet  with  on  the  way,  is  one  great 
argument  with  her  to  \n\t  her  forward  on  her 
journev.  For  she  told  me  in  so  many  words, 
"The  bitter  goes  before  the  sweet;  yea,  and 
forasmuch  as  it  doth,  it  makes  the  sweet  the 
sweeter."' 

"Oh,  this  blind  and  foolish  woman!"'  said 
jire.  Bats  eyes.  Mrs.  Bat's-cycs ;  "and  will  she  not 
take  warning  by  her  husband's  afflictions  ?  For 
my  i)art,  I  see,  if  he  were  here  again,  he  would 
rest  himself  content  in  a  whole  skin,  and  never 
run  so  manv  hazards  for  nothing." 


132  PILGRIM'S  PIIUGRESS. 

Mrs.  Inconsiderate  also  replied,  sa3ing, 
"Away  with  sucli  fantastical  fools  era" '""""" 
from  the  town :  a  good  riddance,  for  my  part, 
I  say,  of  her ;  should  she  stay  where  she  dwells, 
and  retain  this  her  mind,  who  could  live  quiet- 
ly by  her  ?  for  she  will  cither  be  dumpish  or 
unneighborly,  or  talk  of  such  matters  as  no 
wise  body  can  abide.  Wherefore,  for  my  part, 
I  shall  never  be  sorry  for  her  departure ;  let 
her  go,  and  let  better  come  in  her  room:  it 
was  never  a  good  world  since  these  whimsical 
fools  dwelt  in  it." 

Then  Mrs.  Light-mind  added  as  followeth: 
"Come,  put  this  kind  of  talk  away.  ,Z2-  ^'^'''' 
I  was   vcsterdav  at  Madam  "Wan-  ^  Madam -n-an- 

«•  >-  ton,     she     that 

ton's,  where  we  were  as  merry  as  been  "too" Hard 

-  -T  -n  IT  ji   •     1     for  Failhl'ul,  in 

the  maids,  hor  who  do  you  thnik  tunc  past. 
should  be  there  but  I  and  Mrs.  Love-the-flesh, 
and  three  or  four  more,  with  Mrs.  Lechery, 
Mrs.  Filth,  and  some  others:  so  there  we  had 
music  and  dancing,  and  what  else  was  meet  to 
fill  up  the  pleasure.  And  I  dare  say,  my  lady 
herself  is  an  admirable  well-bred  gentlewoman, 
and  Mr.  Lechery  is  as  pretty  a  fellow." 


CURISTIANA   PERSUADES  MERCY.        433 


THE  FIRST  STAGE. 

By  this  time  Cliristiana  was  got  on  her 
way.  and  Mercy  went  along  with  her:  so  as 
they  went,  her  children  being  there  also,  Chris- 
twveu°"'Mcrcv  ^i^^i^^  bcgan  to  discourse.  "And, 
and^oodlhJu.  ^Y^Y^^.,-  g^ij  Christiana,  "I  take  this 

as  an  unexpected  favor,  that  thou  shouldest  set 
forth  out  of  doors  with  me  to  accompany  me  a 
little  in  the  way."' 

Then  said  young  ^lercy,  (for  she  was  but 

J^crcyincHncs  y^^^^g  )    -qf  J   tllOUght  it  WOuld  bc   tO 

purpose  to  go  with  you,  I  would  never  go  near 
the  town  any  more.' 

'Well.  Mercy,"  said  Christiana,  "cast  in 
thy  lot  with  me:  I  well  know  what  will  be  the 
end  of  our  pilgrimage:  my  husband  is  where 
he  would  not  but  be  for  all  the  gold  in  the 
Spanish  mines.  Xor  shalt  thou  bc  rejected, 
though  thou  goest  but  upon  my  invitation.  The 
King,  who  hath  sent  for  me  and  my  children, 
is  one  that  delighteth  in  mercy.  Besides,  if 
thou  wilt.  I  will  hire  thee,  and  thou  shalt  go 
along  with  me  as  my  servant.  Yet  we  will 
have  all  things  in  common  between  thee  and 
me  ;  only  go  along  with  me." 

r.l.    Pro.  10 


434  PIL0RIM\-5  rnociiEss. 

Mer.  But  how  shall  I  be  ascertained  that  I 
also  should  be  entertained  ?  Had  I  oSptancc- *' 
this  hope  but  from  one  that  can  tell,  I  would 
liiake  no  stick  at  all,  but  would  go,  being  helped 
by  Him  that  can  help,  though  the  way  was 
never  so  tedious. 

Chr.  Well,  loving  Mercy,  I  will  tell  thee 
what  thou  shalt  do :  go  with  me  to  aiiure*s''ter'"o 
the  wicket-gate,  and  there  I  will  fur-  is'Vuinlt''  and 

^  promises    there 

ther  inquire  for  thee ;  and  if  there  {."r.'"'^"''''  '''" 
thou  shalt  not  meet  Avith  encouragement,  I  will 
])e  content  that  thou  return  to  thy  place ;  I  will 
also  pay  thee  for  thy  kindness  Avhich  thou  show- 
est  to  me  and  my  children,  in  the  accompany- 
ing of  us  in  our  way  as  thou  dost. 

Mer.  Then  will  I  go  thither,  and  will  take 
what  shall  follow :  and  the  Lord  grant   Mercy  riays. 
that  my  lot  may  there  fall  even  as  the  King  of 
heaven  shall  have  his  heart  upon  me. 

Christiana  then  was  glad  at  heart,  not  only 
that  she  had  a  companion,  but  also  chnstianagiad 

^  of  Jlcrcyscom- 

for  that  she  had  prevailed  with  this  p"">- 
poor  maid  to  fall  in  love  with  her  own  salva- 
tion.    So  they  w^ent  on  together,  and  Mercy 
began  to  weep.   Then  said  Christiana,  "Where- 
fore weepeth  my  sister  so  ?'' 

''Alas."  said  Mercv,  "who  can  but  lament, 


MEIHV   WEEP.?  FOR  FUIEN1».<.  435 

that  shall  Imt  rightly  consider  wliat  a  state  and 
Mercy grk'vis  condition  niv  j)oor  relations  are  in, 

for    liLT  carnal 

relations.  {]ir^^  yet  remain  in  onr  sinfnl  town? 
And  that  which  makes  my  grief  the  more  heavy 
is,  becanse  they  liave  no  instructor,  nor  an}'  to 
tell  them  what  is  to  come.'" 

CiiR.  Pity  becomes  j)ilgrims ;  and  thon  dost 
weep  for  thy  friends,  as  my  good  Christian  did 
for  me  when  he  left  me:  he  mourned  for  that  I 

Christians  would  uot  hccd  uor  regard  him;  l)ut 
answ*ered  for  his  jiis  Lord  aud  ours  did  gather  nn  his 

relations     alter  ^  ' 

hewasdcacJ.        ^^,^^^     ^^^^^   j,^^^    ^jj^.^j^    i,j|^^   |,|^  bottlc  ; 

and  now  both  I  and  thou,  and  these  my  sweet 
babes,  are  reaping  the  fruit  and  benefit  of  them. 
I  hope,  Mercy,  that  these  tears  of  thine  will  not 
be  lost;  for  the  truth  hath  said,  that  "they  that 
sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy."  And  "he  that 
goeth  forth  and  weepeth.  l)earing  precious  seed, 
shall  doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bring- 
ing his  sheaves  with  him."  Psa.  120  -.i),  G. 
Then  said  Mei-cy, 

'•Let  tlu'  Most  Blessed  be  my  guide, 
If  't  Ije  liis  blessed  will. 
I'litn  Ills  gate,  into  liis  foM. 
Tp  t<.  his  lioly  hill. 

"And  let  him  never  suflfer  me 
To  swerve,  or  turn  aside 
From  his  free  grace  and  holy  ways, 
What  e'er  shall  me  V>eti(le. 


436  PlLGRIiM'S  TROGRESS. 

"And  let  him  gather  them  of  mine 
That  I  have  left  behind  ; 
Lord,  make  them  pray  they  may  be  thine 
With  all  their  heart  and  mind." 

Now  my  old  friend  proceeded,  and  said, 
•But  when  Christiana  came  to  the  Slough  of  De- 
spond, she  began  to  be  at  a  stand;  "for,"  saidl/^ 
she,  "this  is  tlie  place  in  which  my  dear  hus- 
band had  like  to  have  been  smothered  with 
mud/'  She  perceived  also,  that  notwithstand- 
ing the  command  of  the  King  to  make  this  place 
for  pilgrims  good,  yet  it  was  rather  worse  than 
formerly.  So  I  asked  if  that  Avas  true.  "Yes," 
said  the  old  gentlemen,  "too  true;  for  many 
there  be  that  pretend  to  ])e  the  King's  labor- 
ers, and  that  say  they  are  for  mend-  ,Ji'''eo.Xsim's 
ing  the  King's  highways,  who  bring  wonfofiife/^^ 
dirt  and  dung  instead  of  stones,  and  so  mar 
instead  of  mending."  Here  Christiana"  there- 
fore, with  her  boys,  did  made  a  stand.  "But," 
said  Mercv,  "come,  let  us  venture;  Mercy  the  boui- 

*"  est  at  the  Slough 

only  let  us  be  wary."     Then  they  oti^espond. 
looked  well  to  their  steps,  and  made  a  shift  to 
get  staggering  over. 

Yet  Christiana  had  like  to  have  been  in, 
and  that  not  once  or  twice.  Now  they  had  no 
sooner  got  over,  but  they  thought  they  heard 
words  that  said  unto   them,   "Blessed  is   she 


TIIH  WI("KET-C;aTE.  437 

(hat  bclieveth;  for  there  shall  be  a  ])erf()rm- 
aiice  of  those  things  whieli  were  told  her  from 
the  Lord."'     Luke  1 :  45. 

Then  they  went  on  again ;  and  said  Merer 
to  Christiana.  'Had  I  as  good  gi-ound  to  hope 
for  a  loving  reeeption  at  the  wieket-gate  as 
you,  I  think  no  Slough  of  Despond  would  dis- 
courage me." 

''Well'"  said  the  other,  "you  know  your 
sore,  and  I  know  mine;  and,  good  friend,  wo 
shall  all  have  enough  evil  befoi-e  we  come  to 
our  journey's  end.  For  can  it  ])e  imagined  that 
the  people  who  design  to  attain  such  excellent 
glories  as  we  do,  and  who  are  so  envied  that 
happiness  as  we  are.  Imt  that  we  shall  meet 
Avith  what  fears  and  snares,  with  what  troubles 
and  alllictions  they  can  i)ossibly  assault  us  with 
that  hate  us ?' 

And  now  Mr.  Sagacity  left  me  to  dream  out 
my  dream  by  myself.  Wherefore,  methought 
I  saw  Christiana  and  Mercy,  and  the  boys,  go 
bi''S7'wJ!h  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^^'"  "P  t^^  the  gate:  to  which. 
fS^l!«\ven  a*^  when  thev  were  come,   thev  betook 

in      faith      and  '  ' 

i>ope.  themselves  to  a  short  debate  about 

how  they  must  manage  their  calling  at  the  gate, 
and  what  should  be  said  unto  him  that  did  open 
to  them :  so  it  was  concluded,  since  Christiana 


438  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

was  the  eldest,  that  she  should  knock  for  en- 
trance, and  that  she  should  speak  to  him  that 
did  open,  for  the  rest.  So  Christiana  began 
to  knock,  and  as  her  poor  husband  did,  she 
knocked  and  knocked  again.  But  instead  of 
any  that  answered,  they  all  thought  that  they 
heard  as  if  a  dog  came  barking  upon    The  dog,  the 

devil,  an  enemy 

them ;  a  dog,  and  a  great  one  too ;  *°  p'^'y^'"- 
and  this  made  the  women  and  children  afraid. 
Nor  durst  they  for  a  while  to  knock  any  more, 
for  fear  the  mastiff  should  fly  upon  them.   Now, 
therefore,  they  were  greatly  tumbled  j[ercy"d"sturb* 

11  •         xi      •  •      1  1    ed  with  doubts 

up  and  down  ni  their  mmds,  and  in  prayer. 
knew  not  what  to  do:  knock  they  durst  not, 
for  fear  of  the  dog ;  go  back  they  durst  not,  for 
fear  the  keeper  of  that  gate  should  espy  them 
as  they  so  went,  and  should  be  offended  with 
them ;  at  last  they  thought  of  knocking  again, 
and  knocked  more  vehemently  than  they  did 
at  first.  Then  said  the  keeper  of  the  gate, 
"  Who  is  there  ?''  So  the  dog  left  off  to  bark, 
and  he  opened  unto  them. 

Then  Christiana  made  low  obeisance,  and 
said,  "Let  not  our  Lord  be  offended  with  his 
handmaidens,  for  that  we  have  knocked  at  his 
princely  gate."  Then  said  the  keeper,  "Whence 
come  ye?  And  what  is  it  that  you  would  have?" 


(11  IIIS'IIANA    KNTKIITA  INKll.  -i'M) 

Christiana  aiiswei-od,  "AVe  are  come  from 
whence  Christian  did  come,  and  upon  the  same 
errand  as  he;  to  Avit.  to  hv.  if  it  shall  please 
you,  graciously  admitted  l)y  tliis  gate  into  the 
way  that  leads  unto  the  eelestial  city.  And  I 
answer,  my  Lord,  in  the  next  place,  that  I  am 
Christiana,  once  the  wile  of  Christian,  that  now 
is  gotten  above." 

With  that  the  keeper  of  the  gate  did  mar- 
vel, saying,  'What,  is  she  now  become  a  pil- 
grim that  but  a  while  ago  abhorred  that  life  ?" 
Then  she  bowed  her  head,  and  said.  "Yea; 
and  so  are  these  my  sweet  babes  also." 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand  and  led  her 
How  christi-  in,  and  said  also,  'Suffer  little  chil- 

ana  is  entertain- 
ed at  the  gate.    (ii-Qn    to   come   unto  me;''  and  with 

that  he  shut  uj)  the  gate.    This  done,  he  called 

to  a  trumpeter  that  Avas  al)ove,  over  the  gate, 

to  entertain  Christiana  with  shouting,  and  the 

sound  of  trumpet,  for  joy.     So  he  obeyed,  and 

sounded,  and  filled  the  air  with  his  melodious 

notes. 

Xow  all  this  while  poor  Mercy  did  stand 

without,  trembling  and  crying,  for  fear  that  she 

was  rejected.     But  when  Christiana  had  got 

admittance  for  herself  and  her  boys,  then  she 

began  to  make  intercession  for  ^fercv. 


440  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

And  Christiana  said,  "My  Lord,  I  have  a 
companion  of  mine  that  stands  yet      Christianas 

prayer   lor  her 

without,  that  is  come  hither  upon  the  f"*^"'^  ^^^'■'^y- 
same  account  as  myself:  one  that  is  much  de- 
jected in  her  mind,  for  that  she  comes,  as  she 
thinks,   without  sending  for;    whereas   I  was 
sent  for  by  my  husband's  King  to  come." 

Now  Mercy  began  to  be  very  impatient, 
and  each  minute  was  as  long  to  her  thf'^'hung^i^l 

1  1  /•  1  J.      ^    soul    tlie    more 

as  an  hour ;  Avhereiore  she  prevented  lervent. 
Christiana  from  a  fuller  interceding  for  her, 
by  knocking  at  the  gate  herself.  And  she 
knocked  then  so  loud  that  she  made  Christiana 
to  start.  Then  said  the  keeper  of  the  gate, 
"Who  is  there?"  And  Christiana  said,  "It  is 
my  friend." 

So  he  opened  the  gate,  and  looked  out,  but 
Mercy  was  fallen  down  without  in  a  -^lercy  faints, 
swoon;  for  she  fainted,  and  was  afraid  that  no 
gate  should  be  opened  to  her. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said, 
"Damsel,  I  bid  thee  arise." 

"Oh,  sir,"  said  she,  "I  am  faint;  there  is 
scarce  life  left  in  me."  But  he  answered,  that 
one  once  said,  "When  my  soul  fainted  within 
me  I  remembered  the  Lord ;  and  my  prayer 
came  unto  thee,  into  thy  holy  temple.     Jonah 


MKIM'Y   KECKIVEn.  441 

2:7.  Fear  not,  but  stand  npon  thy  feet,  and 
tell  ine  wherefore  thou  art  come."' 

^[i-:it.  I  am  come  for  that  unto  which  I  Avas 
never  invited,  as  my  friend  Chri.^tiana  was. 
Hers  was  from  the  King,  and  mine  was  but 
from  her.     AVlierefore  I  fear  I  presume. 

Keep.  Did  she  desire  thee  to  come  Avith 
her  to  this  phice  ? 

]\Ier.  Yes ;  and  as  my  Lord  sees,  I  am  come. 
And  if  there  is  any  grace  and  forgiveness  of 
sins  to  spare,  I  beseech  that  thy  poor  hand- 
maid may  be  a  partaker  thereof. 

Then  he  took  her  again  by  the  hand,  and 
led  her  gently  in,  and  said,  '■  I  pray  for  all 
them  that  believe  on  me.  by  what  means  soever 
they  come  unto  me."  Then  said  he  to  those 
that  stood  by,  "  Fetch  something  and  give  it 
to  Mercy  to  smell  on,  thereby  to  stay  her  faint- 
ings;"  so  they  fetched  her  a  bundle  of  myrrh, 
and  a  while  after  she  was  revived. 

And  now  were  Christiana  and  her  boys, 
and  Mercy,  received  of  the  Lord  at  the  head 
of  the  way,  and  spoken  kindly  unto  by  him. 
Then  said  they  yet  further  unto  him,  ''We  are 
sorry  for  our  sins,  and  beg  of  our  Lord  his  par- 
don and  further  information  what  we  must  do." 

"I  grant  pardon."  said  he.  ''by  word  and 


442  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

deed;  by  word  in  tlie  promise  of  forgiveness, 
by  deed  in  the  way  I  obtained  it.  Take  the 
first  from  my  lips  with  a  kiss,  and  the  other  as 
it  shall  be  revealed."    Song  1:2;  John  20  :  20. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  spoke 
many  good  words  nnto  them,  whereby  they 
were  greatly  gladdened.  He  also  had  them  up 
to  the  top  of  the  gate,  and  showed  them  by 
what  deed  they  were  saved;  and  told  them 
withal,  that  that  sight  they  would  se'en  afaJof "' 
have  again  as  they  went  along  in  the  way,  to 
their  comfort. 

So  he  left  them  a  while  in  a  summer  parlor 
below,  where  they  entered  into  talk  thlchr!^ua;r 
by  themselves ;  and  thus  Christiana  began.  "0 
how  glad  am  I  that  we  are  got  in  hither." 

Mer.  So  you  well  may ;  but  I,  of  all,  have 
cause  to  leap  for  joy. 

Chr.  I  thought  one  time,  as  I  stood  at  the 
gate,  because  I  had  knocked  and  none  did  an- 
swer, that  all  our  labor  had  been  lost,  espec- 
ially when  that  ugly  cur  made  such  a  heavy 
barking  against  us. 

Mer.  But  my  worst  fear  was  after  I  saw 
that  you  was  taken  into  his  favor,  and  that  I 
was  left  behind.  Now,  thought  I,  it  is  fultilled 
which  is  written,  "Two  women  shall  be  grind- 


KAKNEST    KNTHKATV.  443 

ing-  at  the  mill;  the  one  .shall  he  taken,  and  the 
other  left.""  Matt.  24  :  41.  I  had  nuieh  a<h)  to 
forbear  eryinu"  out.  rndoiicl  And  afraid  I 
wa.^  to  knoek  any  more:  but  when  1  looked  np 
t(^  what  was  wi-itten  over  the  uate,  I  took  cour- 
age. I  also  thouuht  that  I  must  eitlier  knoek 
again,  or  die;  so  I  knoeked.  l)nt  I  cannot  tell 
how.  for  my  spirit  now  struggled  between  life 
and  death. 

Ciiu.  Can  yon  not  tell  how  you  knoeked? 
I  am  sure  your  knocks  were  so  earnest  that  the 
very  sound  ol"  them  made  me  start;  I  thought 
thinks 'iK'f com*  I  iiover  licard  such  knocking  in  all 

betTr'than  she'  Uiy  Hfc  ;    I   tllOUght    yOU   WOUld    COUIC 

in  by  a  violent  hand,  or  take  the  kingdom  by 
storm.     :\ratt.  11:12. 

~SIfai.  Alas,  to  be  in  my  case,  who  that  so 
was  could  but  have  done  so  ?  You  saw  that 
the  door  was  shut  upon  me.  and  that  there  was 
a  most  cruel  dog  thereabout.  AVho,  I  say,  that 
was  so .  faint-hearted  as  I,  would  not  have 
knocked  with  all  their  might?  But  pray,  what 
said  my  Lord  to  my  rudeness?  AVas  he  net 
angry  with  me  ? 
Christ pieaseri        Chk.  Whcu  liG  heard  vour  lum- 

with    loud  and 

restless  prayer,  bcrlng  uolsc,  hc  gavG  a  wondcrful 
innocent  smile;  I  believe  what  you  did  pleased 


444  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

him  well,  for  he  showed  no  sign  to  the  contra- 
ry.    But  I  marvel  in  my  heart  why    if 


th2  soul  at 
<irst  did    know 


he  keeps  such  a  clog:  had  I  known  nleetwitifin"its 
that  before,  I  should  not  have  had  M^'^ir  wouw 

hardly  ever  set 

heart  enough  to  have  ventured  my-  °"' 

self  in  this  manner.     But  now  we  are  in,  we 

are  in,  and  I  am  glad  with  all  my  heart. 

Mer.  I  will  ask,  if  you  please,  next  time 
he  comes  down,  why  he  keeps  such  a  lilth}^  cur 
in  his  yard ;  I  hope  he  will  not  take  it  amiss. 

"Do  so,"  said  the  children,  "and  persuade 
him  to  hang  him ;  for  we  are  afraid    The  children 

arc  afraid  of  the 

he  will  bite  us  when  we  go  hence."    '^"g- 

So  at  last  he  came  down  to  them  again,  and 
Mercy  fell  to  the  ground  on  her  face  before 
him,  and  worshipped,  and  said,  "Let  my  Lord 
accept  the  sacrilice  of  praise  which  I  now  offer 
unto  him  with  the  calves  of  my  lips." 

So  he  said  unto  her,  "Peace  be  to  thee; 
stand  up."  But  she  continued  upon  her  face, 
and  said,  "Righteous  art  thou,  0  Lord,  when 
I  plead  with  thee ;  yet  let  me  talk  with  thee  of 
thy  judgments.  Jer.  12:1.  Wherefore  dost 
thou  keep  so  cruel  a  dog  in  thv  yard,    sicrcy  expos- 

"    "  tulates      about 

at  the  sight  of  which  such  women  the  dog. 
and  children  as  we  are  ready  to  fly  from  thy 
gate  for  fear  ?" 


WORK  OF  THE  DEVIL.  445 

He  answered  and  .^aid,  "That  dog  has  an- 
The  devil,  othei'  ownei' ;  he  also  is  kept  close  in 
another  man's  gronnd,  only  my  pilgrims  hear 
his  barking ;  he  belongs  to  the  castle  which  you 
see  there  at  a  distance,  but  can  come  up  to  the 
walls  of  this  place.  He  has  frighted  many  an 
honest  pilgrim  from  worse  to  better,  by  the 
great  voice  of  his  roaring.  Indeed,  he  tiuit 
owneth  him  doth  not  keep  him  out  of  any  good- 
will to  me  or  mine,  but  with  intent  to  keep  the 
jiilgrims  from  coming  to  me,  and  that  they  may 
be  afraid  to  come  and  knock  at  this  gate  for 
entrance.  Sometimes  also  he  has  broken  out, 
and  has  worried  some  that  I  loved;  but  I  take 
all  at  present  patiently.  I  also  give  my  pil^ 
grims  timely  help,  so  that  they  are  not  deliv- 
ered to  his  power,  to  do  with  them  what  his 
doggish  nature  would  prompt  him  to.  But 
what,  my  purchased  one,  I  trow  hadst  thou 
known  never  so  much  beforehand,  thou  wonki- 
est not  have  been  afraid  of  a  dog.  The  beg- 
gars that  go  from  door  to  door  will,  rather 
Achccktothe  than  lose  a  supposed  alms,  run  tlie 

rarnal    fear    of 

the  pilgrims,  hazard  of  the  bawling,  barking,  and 
biting  too  of  a  dog:  and  shall  a  dog,  a  dog  in 
anotlier  man's  yard,  a  dog  whose  barking  [ 
turn  to  tlie  jirofit  of  ])ilgrims.  keep  any  iVom 


44G  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

coming  to  me  ?  I  deliver  them  from  the  lions 
and  m}^  darling  from  the  power  of  the  dog." 
Psa.  22:21,  22. 

Then  said  Mercy,  ''I  confess  my  igno- 
rance; I  spoke  what  I  understood    ,   christians, 

■  I  wlien  wise 

not , 

all  things  well." 

Then  Christiana  began.to  talk  of  their  jour- 
ney, and  to  inquire  after  the  way.  So  he  fed 
them,  and  washed  their  feet,  and  set  them  in 
the  way  of  his  steps,  according  as  he  had  dealt 
with  her  husband  before. 


GARDEN"  OF  THE  EVIL  ONE.  447 


THE  SECOND  STAGE. 

So  T  saw  ill  my  dream,  that  they  walked 
on  their  way.  and  had  the  weatlier  very  com- 
fortable to  them. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  sing,  saying, 

••  Blessed  be  tlie  day  that  I  began 
A  jiilgrim  for  to  be; 
And  blessed  also  be  the  man 
That  thereto  niovid  me. 

"  'T  is  true,  't  was  long  ere  I  began 
To  seek  to  live  for  ever ; 
But  now  I  run  fast  as  I  can: 
T  is  better  late  than  never. 

"Our  tears  to  joy,  our  fears  to  faith, 
Are  turned,  as  wc  see ; 
Thus  our  bcginmng,  as  one  saith, 
Shows  what  our  end  will  be.' 

Now  there  was,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wall  that  fenced  in  the  way  up  which  Chris- 
garden.  '*''''''  tiana  and  her  comi)anions  were  to 
go,  a  garden,  and  that  garden  belonged  to  him 
wliose  was  that  barking  dog  of  whom  mention 
was  made  before.  And  some  of  the  fruit-trees, 
that  grew  in  that  garden  shot  their  branches 
over  the  wall :  and  Ijeing  mellow,  they  that 
found  them  did  gather  them  up  and  eat  of 
them   to  their  hurt,     ^o  Christiana's  bovs.  as 


448  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

boys  are  apt  to  do,  being  pleased  with  the 
trees,  and  with  the  fruit  that  huni^    The  children 

*"    eat  of  the  ene- 

thereon,  did  pluck  them,  and  began  mys  ftuit- 
to  eat.     Their  mother  did  also  chide  them  for 
so  doing,  but  still  the  boys  went  on. 

"Well,"  said  she,  "my  sons,  you  transgress, 
for  that  fruit  is  none  of  ours;"  but  she  did  not 
know  that  it  belonged  to  the  eneni}' :  I  '11  war- 
rant you,  if  she  had  she  would  have  been  ready 
to  die  for  fear.  But  that  passed,  and  they 
went  on  their  way.  Now,  by  that  they  were 
gone  about  two  bow-shots  from  the  place  that 
led  them  into,  the  way,  they  espied  two  very 
ill-favored  ones  coming  down  apace  to  meet 
them.  With  that,  Christiana  and  Mercy  her 
friend  covered  themselves  with  their  veils,  and 
so  kept  on  their  journey:  the  chil-  ,7;;°s"a^sluit 

J  1  iii>  iiii.   Christiana   and 

dren  also  went  on  before ;  so  that  at  Mercy. 
last  they  met  together.  Then  they  that  came 
down  to  meet  them,  came  just  up  to  the  women, 
as  if  they  would  embrace  them ;  but  Christiana 
said,  "Stand  back,  or  go  peaceably  as  you 
should."  Yet  these  two,  as  men  that  are  deaf, 
regarded  not  Christiana's  words,  but  began  to 
lay  hands  upon  them :  at  that  Christiana  wax- 
ing very  wroth,  spurned  at  them  with  her  feet. 
Mercy  also,  as  well  as  she  could,  did  what  she 


Till-:  rii.r.RiMS  assaulted.  449 

could  to  sliift  tlicin.  riiristiana  again  said  to 
tlK'in.  "Staud  l)a('k.  and  be  gone,  for  we  have 
no  money  to  lose,  being  pilgrims,  as  you  see, 
and  such  too  as  live  upon  the  charity  of  our 
friends." 

Then  said  one  of  the  two  men,  "AVe  make 
no  assault  upon  you  for  money,  but  are  come 
out  to  tell  you,  that  if  you  will  but  grant  one 
small  request  which  we  shall  ask,  we  will  make 
women  of  you  for  ever." 

Xow  Christiana,  imagining  what  they  should 
mean. made answeragain,  "We will  neitherhear, 
nor  regard,  nor  yield  to  what  you  shall  ask. 
TVe  are  in  haste,  and  cannot  stay;  our  business 
is  a  business  of  life  and  death."'  So  again  she 
and  her  companion  made  a  fresh  essay  to  go 
past  them ;  but  they  letted  them  in  their  way. 

And  they  said,  "'We  intend  no  hurt  to  your 
lives;  it  is  another  thing  we  would  have."' 

"Aye,"  quoth  Christiana,  "you  would  have 
us  body  and  soul,  for  I  know  it  is  for  that  you 
are  come ;  but  we  will  die  rather  upon  the  Sjiot, 
than  to  suffer  ourselves  to  be  brought  into  such 
snares  as  shall  hazard  our  well-being  liere- 
Thcycryout  aftcr."'  A  11(1  wlth  tluU  they  both 
shrieked  out.  and  cried.  "Murder,  murder!"' 
and  so  put  theiiiselves  under  those  laws  that 


450  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

arc  provided  for  the  protection  of  women. 
Deut.  22  :  25-27.  But  the  men  still  made  their 
approach  upon  them,  witli  design  to  prevail 
against  them.  They  therefore  cried  out  again. 
Now  they  being,  as  I  said,  not  far  from  the 
gate  in  at  which  they  came,  their  voice  was 
heard  from  whence  they  were,  thither:  where- 
fore some  of  the  house   came   out,  J^^  ourwhen 


tongue,  they  made  haste  to  her  relief.  But  by 
that  they  were  got  within  sight  of  eom'I ''"'""' 
them,  the  women  were  in  a  very  great  scuffle ; 
the  children  also  stood  crying  by.  Then  did 
he  that  came  in  for  their  relief  call  out  to  the 
ruffians,  saying,  "What  is  that  thing  you  do? 
Would  you  make  my  Lord's  people  to  trans- 
gress ?"  He  also  attempted  to  take  them,  but 
they  did  make  their  escape  over  the    The  m  ones 

•^      _  ^  fly  to  the  devil 

wall  into  the  garden  of  the  man  to  forreuef. 
whom  the  great  dog  belonged ;  so  the  dog  be- 
came their  protector.  This  Reliever  then  came 
up  to  the  women,  and  asked  them  how  they 
did.  So  they  answered,  "We  thank  thy  Prince, 
pretty  well,  only  we  have  been  somewhat  af- 
frighted: we  thank  thee  also  for  that  thou 
camest  in  to  our  help,  otherwise  we  had  been 
overcome.'' 


TIIK    IMIJJRIMS'   OVEIJSICIIT.  451 

So,  after  a  lew  more  words,  this  Reliever 
The  Reliever  salcl  as  followetli : " I  iiiarvelled  mueh. 

talks      to      the 

women.  wluMi   voii   Were  entertained  at   the 

gate  above,  seeing  ye  knew  that  ye  were  l)ut 
weak  women,  that  you  petitioned  not  the  Lord 
for  a  conduetor:  then  niiglit  you  have  avoided 
these  troubles  and  dangers :  lor  he  would  have 
granted  you  one." 

"Alas."  said  Christiana,  'we  were  so  taken 
Mark  this:  with  our  })resent  l)lessing,  that  dan- 
gers to  come  were  forgotten  by  us.  Besides, 
who  could  have  thought,  that  so  near  the  King's 
palace  there  could  have  lurked  such  naughty 
ones?  Indeed,  it  had  been  well  for  us  had  we 
asked  our  Lord  for  one:  l)ut  since  our  Lord 
knew  it  would  be  for  our  profit,  I  wonder  he 
sent  not  one  along  with  us." 

Rkl.  It  is  not  always  necessary  to  grant 
things  not  asked  for,  lest  by  so  doing  they  be- 
.noT'i^skS  '""■  come  of  little  esteem ;  but  when  the 
want  of  a  thing  is  felt,  ii  then  comes  under,  in 
the  eyes  of  him  that  feels  it,  that  estimate  that 
properly  is  its  due,  and  so  consequently  will 
be  thereafter  used.  Had  my  Lord  granted 
you  a  conductor,  you  would  not  cither  so  have 
bewailed  that  oversight  of  yours,  in  not  asking 
for  one,  as  now  vou  have  occasion  to  do.     J-^o 


452  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

all  things  work  for  good,  and  tend  to  make  yon 
more  wary. 

Chr.  Shall  we  go  back  again  to  my  Lord, 
and  confess  our  folly,  and  ask  one  ? 

Eel.  Your  confession  of  your  folh^  I  will 
present  him  with.  To  go  back  again  you  need 
not,  for  in  all  places  where  you  shall  come  you 
will  find  no  want  at  all ;  for  in  every  one  of 
my  Lord's  lodgings,  which  he  has  prepared  for 
the  reception  of  his  pilgrims,  there  is  sufficient 
to  furnish  them  against  all  attempts  whatso- 
ever. But,  as  I  said,  He  will  be  inquired  of 
by  them,  to  do  it  for  them.  Ezek.  36  :  37.  And 
't  is  a  poor  thing  that  is  not  worth  asking  for. 

When  he  had  thus  said,  he  Avent  back  to 
his  place,  and  the  pilgrims  went  on  their  Avay. 

Then  said  Mercy,  "  What  a  sudden  blank 
is  here !  I  made  account  that  we  had  o^llrc^''"'"' 
been  past  all  danger,  and  that  we  should  never 
see  sorrow  more." 

"Thine  innocency,  my  sister,"  said  Chris- 
tiana to  Mercy,  "may  excuse  thee  gunt''"'"^"'''' 
much ;  but  as  for  me,  my  fault  is  so  much  the 
greater,  for  that  I  saw  this  danger  before  I 
came  out  of  the  doors,  and  yet  did  not  provide 
for  it  when  provision  might  have  been  had.  I 
am  much  to  be  blamed  '' 


THE  nirilES  OF  GRACE.  453 

Tlion  said  Mercy,  "How  knew  you  this 
Ix'l'orc  you  came  from  home?  I*ray  open  to 
me  this  I'iddh'.*" 

CiiR.  Why,  I  will  tell  you.  Before  I  set 
dreanl'rSXi'  foot  out  of  doors,  oue  night  as  I  lay 
in  my  l)ed  I  had  a  di-oam  ahout  this;  for  me- 
thoutrht  I  saw  two  men.  as  like  these  as  ever 
any  in  the  woi-ld  could  h)ok,  stand  at  my  bed's 
foot.  })lotting  how  they  might  ])revent  my  sal- 
vation. I  will  tell  you  their  very  words.  They 
said,  (it  was  when  I  was  in  my  troubles.)  "What 
shall  we  do  with  this  woman?  for  she  cries  out, 
waking  and  sleeping,  for  forgiveness;  if  she  be 
suffered  to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall  lose  her 
as  we  have  lost  her  husband."  This  you  know 
might  have  made  me  take  heed,  and  have  pro- 
vided when  provision  might  have  been  had. 

'•Well,"  said  ^lercy,  "as  l)y  this  neglect 
Mercy  makes  wc  liuvc  au  occaslon  miuistcred  unto 

good  use oClheir 

neglect  of  duty,  ^^g  ^0  bchold  our  own  imperfections, 
so  our  Lord  has  taken  occasion  thereby  to 
make  manifest  the  riches  of  his  grace ;  for  he, 
as  we  see,  has  followed  us  with  unasked  kind- 
ness, and  has  delivered  us  froiu  tlicir  hands 
that  were  stronger  than  we,  of  his  mere  good 
pleasure." 

Thus  now.  when   thcv  ha<l  talked  awav  a 


454  PTLCRTM'?  PROGRESS. 

little  more  time,  they  drew  near  to  a  house 
which  stood  in  the  way,  Avhich  house  was  built 
for  the  relief  of  pilgrims,  as  you  will  find  more 
fully  related  in  the  first  part  of  these  records 
of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  So  they  drew  on 
towards  the  house,  (the  house  of  the  Interpret- 
er ;)  and  Avhen  they  came  to  the  door,  xaik  in  inter- 
they  heard  a  prreat  talk  in  the  house,  about   ciiristi- 

"  '-^  ana  s  going  on 

Then  they  gave  ear,  and  heard,  as  p-'s'-^^s^- 
they  thought,  Christiana  mentioned  by  name  ; 
for  you  must  know  that  there  went  along,  even 
before  her,  a  talk  of  her  and  her  children's 
going  on  pilgrimage.  And  this  was  the  more 
pleasing  to  them,  because  they  had  heard  that 
she  was  Christian's  wife,  that  woman  who  was 
some  time  ago  so  unwilling  to  hear  of  going  on 
pilgrimage.  Thus,  therefore,  they  stood  still, 
and  heard  the  good  people  within  commending 
her  who  they  little  thought  stood  at  the  door. 
At  last  Christiana  knocked,  as  she  thed'oor"'''''' 
had  done  at  the  gate  before.  Now,  when  she 
had  knocked,  there  came  to  the  door    The  door  is 

opened  to  them 

a  young  damsel,  and  opened  the  door,  ^y  innocent. 
and  looked,  and  behold,  two  women  were  there. 

Then  said  the  damsel  to  them,  "With  whom 
would  you  speak  in  this  place  ?" 

Christiana  answered.  "We  understand  that 


JoV   IX   THE  Iior.-^E.  -l.-M 

this  is  a  privileuHM]  jilncc  foi-  those  (hat  are  be- 
come piluriiiis,  niul  we  now  at  this  door  are 
such:  wherefore  we  pray  that  we  may  be  j)ar- 
takers  of  that  for  which  we  at  this  time  are 
come;  for  the  day,  as  thou  seest,  is  very  far 
spent,  and  we  are  loath  to-niglit  to  go  any  fur- 
ther."" 

Dam.  Pray,  what  may  I  call  your  name, 
that  I  may  tell  it  to  my  Lord  within  ? 

Chr.  My  name  is  Christiana;  I  was  the 
wife  of  that  })ilgrim  that  some  years  ago  did 
travel  this  way,  and  these  be  his  four  children. 
This  maiden  also  is  my  companion,  and  is  going 
on  j)ilgrimage  too. 

Then  Innocent  ran  in,  (for  that  Avas  her 
name,)  and  said  to  those  within,  'Can  you  think 
who  is  at  the  door?  There  is  Christiana  and 
her  children,  and  her  companion,  all, waiting 
.loy  in  the  f<>i*  ontertainmcnt  here."  Then  they 
Interpreter  that  Icapcd  for  jov,  aud  wcut  aud  told 

Christiana       is  '■  ^    ».   ' 

turned  pilgrim.  |.]^^|j,  Mastcr.  So  hc  cauic  to  the 
door,  and  looking  upon  her,  he  sai<l,  ''Art  thou 
that  Christiana  whom  (liristian  the  good  man 
left  behind  him  when  he  betook  himself  to  a 
pilgrim's  life  ?'" 

CniJ.  I  am  that  woman  that  was  so  hai'd- 
heartcd  as  to  sliulif  mv  lius])aiid"s  iroubles.  and 


456  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

that  left  him  to  go  on  his  journey  alone,  and 
these  are  his  four  children.  But  now  I  also  am 
come,  for  I  am  convinced  that  no  way  is  right 
but  this. 

Inter.  Then  is  fulfilled  that  which  is  writ- 
ten of  the  man  that  said  to  his  son,  "Go  work 
to-day  in  my  vineyard ;  and  he  said  to  his  fa- 
ther, I  will  not;  but  afterwards  repented,  and 
went."     Matt.  21:29. 

Then  said  Christiana,  "So  be  it:  Amen. 
God  make  it  a  true  saying  upon  me,  and  grant 
that  I  may  be  found  at  the  last  of  him  in  peace, 
without  spot,  and  blameless." 

Inter.  But  why  standest  thou  thus  at  the 
door?  Come  in,  thou  daughter  of  Abraham; 
we  were  talking  of  thee  but  now,  for  tidings 
have  come  to  us  before  how  thou  art  become  a 
pilgrim.  Come,  children,  come  in ;  come,  maid- 
en, come  in. 

So  he  had  them  all  into  the  house. 

So  when  they  were  within,  they  were  bid- 
den to  sit  down  and  rest  them ;  the  which  when 
they  had  done,  those  that  attended  upon  the 
pilgrims  in  the  house  came  into  the  room  to 
see  them.  And  one  smiled,  and  an-  t^^e^eThel^uS 
other  smiled,  and  they  all  smiled  for  cfods ways. 
joy  that  Christiana  was  become  a  pilgrim.  They 


THE  SIGMFICAXT-ROOM?.  457 

also  looked  upon  the  bovs;  they  stroked  tlicm 
over  tlieir  laces  with  the  hand,  in  token  of  their 
kind  reception  ol"  them:  they  also  caii-icd  it 
lovingly  to  Mercy,  and  bid  them  all  welcome 
into  their  Master's  house. 

After  a  while,  because  supper  was  not 
caltTooms^"'"  rcady,  the  Interpreter  took  them 
into  his  Significant-rooms,  and  showed  them 
what  Christian,  Christiana's  husband,  had  seen 
some  time  before.  Here,  therefore,  they  saw 
the  man  in  the  cage,  the  man  and  his  dream, 
the  man  tliat  cut  his  way  througli  his  enemies. 
and  the  picture  of  the  biggest  of  them  all,  to- 
gether with  the  rest  of  those  things  that  were 
then  so  profitable  to  Christian. 

This  done,  and  after  those  things  had  been 
somewhat  digested  1  r  Christiana  and  her  com- 
pany, the  Interpreter  takes  them  ajiart  again, 
and  has  them  first  into  a  room  where  was  a 
The  man  with  nuui  that  could  look  no  wav  but  down- 

the    muck  rake 

expounded.  wards,  wltli  a  muck-rake  in  his  hand. 
There  stood  also  one  over  his  head  with  a  celes- 
tial crown  in  his  hand,  and  proffered  him  that 
crown  ^(  V  his  muck-n.kc;  but  the  man  did  nei- 
ther look  up  nor  regard,  but  raked  to  himself  the 
straws,  tlie  small  sticks,  and  dust  of  the  floor. 
Then  said  Christiana,  "I  persuade  myseU 


458  J'TLG  KIM'S  PROr.RESS. 

that  I  know  somewhat  the  meaning  of  this ;  for 
this  is  the  figure  of  a  man  of  this  world,  is  it 
not,  good  sir?" 

"Thou  hast  said  right,"'  said  the  Interpret- 
er; "and  his  mnck-rake  doth  show  his  carnal 
mind.  And  whereas  thon  seest  him  rather  give 
heed  to  i-ake  np  straws  and  sticks,  and  the 
dust  of  the  floor,  than  to  do  what  He  says  that 
calls  to  him  from  above  with  the  celestial  crown 
in  his  hand,  it  is  to  show  that  heaven  is  but 
as  a  fable  to  some,  and  that  things  here  are 
counted  the  only  things  substantial.  Now, 
whereas  it  was  also  showed  thee  tliat  the  man 
could  look  no  way  but  downwards,  it  is  to  let 
thee  know  that  earthl}'  things,  when  they  are 
with  power  npon  men's  minds,  quite  carry  their 
hearts  away  from  God.*' 

Then  said  Christiana,  "0  deliver      Christianas 

prayer    against 

me  from  this  muck-rake."  Prov.  ^'^e muckrake. 
30  :  8. 

"That  prayer,"  said  the  Interpreter,  "has 
lain  by  till  it  is  almost  rusty:  'Give  me  not 
riches,'  is  scarce  the  prayer  of  one  in  ten  thou- 
sand. Straws  and  sticks  and  dust,  with  most, 
are  the  great  things  now  looked  after." 

With  that  Christiana  and  Mercy  wept,  and 
said,  "It  is,  alas,  too  true." 


Til  i:  si'iDKH.  459 

When  the  Tii(t'ri)iTtor  had  showed  them 
this,  he  had  them  into  tlie  very  best  room  in 
the  house;  a  very  ])i'ave  room  it  was.  So  he 
bid  tliem  look  round  about,  and  see  if  they 
eouhl  find  any  thin.ii:  })rofita])le  there.  Then 
the}'  looked  round  and  round ;  for  there  was 
Of  the  spider,  nothing  to  l)e  seen  but  a  very  great 
spider  on  the  Avail,  and  that  they  overlooked. 

Tlien  said  AFerey,  "Sir,  I  see  nothing;"  but 
Christiana  held  her  peaee. 

"But,"  said  tlie  Interpreter,  "look  again." 
She  tlierefore  looked  again,  and  said,  "Here  is 
sp[der.''^°"**"'  not  any  thing  but  an  ugly  si)ider, 
who  hangs  by  her  hands  upon  the  wall."  Then 
said  he,  "Is  there  but  one  spider  in  all  this 
spacious  room?"  Then  the  water  stood  in  Cliris- 
tiana's  eyes,  for  she  was  a  woman  (juick  of 
appreliension;  and  she  said,  "Yea,  Lord,  there 
are  more  here  than  one ;  yea,  and  sj)iders  whose 
venom  is  far  more  destructive  than  that  which 
is  in  Iier."  The  Interpreter  then  looked  pleas- 
antly on  her.  and  said.  "Thou  liast  said  the 
truth."  This  made  Mei-cy  to  blusli,  and  the 
boys  to  cover  llieir  faces;  for  they  all  began 
now  to  understand  the  riddle. 

Then  said  tiic  Interpreter  again.  "The  spi- 
der takcMli  liold  widi   licr  luuids."  ns  von  see. 


460  PILCxRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

'and  is  in  kings'  palaces.'  Prov.  20  :  38.  And 
wherefore  is  this  recorded,  but  to  show  you 
that,  how  full  of  the  venom  of  sin  soever  you 
be,  yet  you  may,  by  the  hand  of  Faith,  lay 
hold  of  and  dwell  in  the  best  room  that  belongs 
to  the  King's  house  above  ?" 

"I  thought,"  said  Christiana,  "of  something 
of  this;  but  I  could  not  imagine  it  at  all.  I 
thought  that  we  were  like  spiders,  and  that  we 
looked  like  ugly  creatures,  in  what  fine  rooms 
soever  we  were:  but  that  by  this  spider,  that 
venomous  and  ill-favored  creature,  we  were  to 
learn  how  to  act  faith,  that  came  not  into  my 
thoughts ;  and  yet  she  hath  taken  hold  with  her 
hands,  and  as  I  see,  dwelleth  in  the  best  room 
in  the  house.    God  has  made  nothing  in  vain." 

Then  they  seemed  all  to  be  glad ;  but  the 
water  stood  in  their  eyes ;  yet  they  looked  one 
upon  another,  and  also  bowed  before  the  In- 
terpreter. 

He  had  them  into  another  room  where  were 
a  hen  and  chickens,  and  bid  them  cwcE""'"'' 
observe  a  while.  So  one  of  the  chickens  went 
to  the  trough  to  drink,  and  every  time  she 
drank  she  lifted  up  her  head  and  her  eyes 
towards  heaven.  "See,"  said  he,  "what  this 
little  chick  doth,  and  learn  of  her  to  acknow- 


THE  IIKN   AND  CHICKENS.  461 

ledge  whoiice  your  mercies  eoiiie,  by  receiving 
them  with  hxiking  up.  Yet  again,''  said  he, 
"observe  and  look:"  so  they  gave  heed,  and 
perceived  that  the  hen  did  walk  in  a  fourfold 
method  towards  her  ehiekens:  lirst,  she  had 
a  common  call,  and  that  she  hath  all  the  day 
long;  second,  she  had  a  special  call,  and  that 
she  had  but  sometimes ;  third,  she  had  a  brood- 
ing note,  Matt.  23  :  37 ;  and,  fourth,  she  had 
an  outcry. 

"Now,"  said  he,  ■"compare  this  hen  to  3'our 
King,  and  these  chickens  to  his  obedient  ones; 
for,  answerable  to  her,  he  himself  hath  his 
methods  which  he  walketh  in  towards  his  peo- 
ple. By  his  common  call,  he  gives  nothing; 
by  his  si)ecial  call,  he  always  has  something  to 
give;  he  has  also  a  brooding  voice,  for  them 
that  are  under  his  wing ;  and  he  has  an  outer}-, 
to  give  the  alarm  when  he  scetli  the  enemy 
come.  I  choose,  my  darlings,  to  lead  you  into 
the  room  v>  here  such  things  are,  because  you 
are  women,  and  they  are  easy  for  you." 

"And,  sir,"  said  Christiana,  "i)rav  let  us 
see  some  more."  So  he  had  them  into  the 
an.u'he^^*er  slaughtcr-house,  where  was  a  butcher 
killing  a  sheep:  and  behold,  the  sheep  was 
quiet,  and  took  her  death  [)atiently.    Then  said 


462  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  Interpreter,  "You  must  learn  of  this  sheep 
to  suffer,  and  to  put  up  with  wrongs  without 
murmurings  and  complaints.  Behold  how  quiet- 
ly she  takes  her  death,  and,  without  objecting, 
she  suftereth  her  skin  to  be  pulled  over  her 
ears.     Your  King  doth  call  you  his  sheep.'' 

After  this  he  led  them  into  his  garden, 
Avhere  was  great  variety  of  flowers;  or  the  garden. 
and  he  said,  "Do  you  see  all  these  ?"  So  Chris- 
tiana said,  "Yes."  Then  said  he  again,  "Be- 
hold, the  flowers  are  diverse  in  stature,  in  qual- 
ity and  color  and  smell  and  virtue,  and  some 
are  better  than  others ;  also,  where  the  gar- 
dener hath  set  them,  there  they  stand,  and 
quarrel  not  one  with  another.'' 

Again,  he  had  them  into  his  field,  which  he 
had  sown  with  wheat  and  corn;  but  of  the  field. 
when  they  beheld,  the  tops  of  all  were  cut  off, 
and  only  the  straw  remained.  He  said  again, 
"This  ground  was  dunged  and  ploughed  and 
sowed,  but  what  shall  we  do  with  the  crop  ?" 
Then  said  Christiana,  "Burn  some,  and  make 
muck  of  the  rest."  Then  said  the  Interpreter 
again,  "Fruit,  you  see,  is  that  thing  jon  look 
for ;  and  for  want  of  that  you  condenni  it  to  the 
fire,  and  to  be  trodden  under  foot  of  men :  be- 
ware that  in  this  vou  condemn  not  vourselves." 


Tin:  pvOBix  AND  ?piDt:n.  463 

Thou,  as  they  were  coining-  in  from  abroad. 
an7ihVVk^r"  tliov  ospiod  a  little  robin  with  a  great 
j^pider  in  his  mouth.  So  the  Interpreter  said, 
"Look  here."  So  they  looked,  and  Mercy 
wondered:  but  Christiana  said,  'What  a  dis- 
paragement is  it  to  such  a  pretty  little  l)ird  as 
the  robin-redbreast ;  he  being  also  a  bird  above 
many,  that  loveth  to  maintain  a  kind  of  socia- 
bleness  with  men  I  I  had  thought  they  had 
lived  upon  crumbs  of  bread,  or  upon  other 
such  harmless  matter:  I  like  him  worse  than  I 
did."' 

The  Interpreter  then  replied,  "This  robin 
is  an  emblem  very  apt  to  set  forth  some  pro- 
fessors by;  for  to  sight  they  are.  as  this  robin, 
pretty  of  note,  color,  and  carriage.  They  seem 
also  to  have  a  ver}^  great  love  for  professors 
that  are  sincere ;  and  above  all  others,  to  de- 
sire to  associate  with  them,  and  to  be  in  their 
company,  as  if  they  could  live  upon  the  good 
man's  crumbs.  They  pretend  also,  that  there- 
fore it  is  that  they  frequent  the  house  of  the 
godly,  and  the  appointments  of  the  Lord :  but 
when  they  are  by  themselves,  as  the  robin. 
they  can  catch  and  gobble  u\)  spiders— they 
can  change  their  diet,  drink  iniquity,  and  swal- 
low down  sin  like  water." 


464  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

So,  when  they  were  come  again  into  the 
house,  because  supper  as  yet  was  not  ,vm  getTt'S 
ready,  Christiana  again  desired  that  unreveaied. 
the  Interpreter  wouki  either  show  or  tell  some 
other  things  that  are  profitable. 

Then  the  Interpreter  began,  and  said, 
"The  fatter  the  sow  is,  the  more  she  desires 
the  mire ;  the  fatter  the  ox  is,  the  more  game- 
somcly  he  goes  to  the  slaughter ;  and  the  more 
healthy  the  lustful  man  is,  the  more  prone  he  is 
unto  evil.  There  is  a  desire  in  women  to  go 
neat  and  fine  ;  and  it  is  a  comely  thing  to  be 
adorned  with  that  which  in  God's  sight  is  of 
great  price.  'T  is  easier  watching  a  night  or 
two,  than  to  sit  up  a  whole  year  together ;  so 
"t  is  easier  for  one  to  begin  to  profess  well,  than 
to  hold  out  as  he  should  to  the  end.  Every 
shipmaster,  when  in  a  storm,  will  willingly 
cast  that  overboard  Avhich  is  of  the  smallest 
value  in  the  vessel;  but  who  will  throw  the 
best  out  first  ?  None  but  he  that  feareth  not 
Grod.  One  leak  will  sink  a  ship,  and  one  sin 
will  destroy  a  sinner.  He  that  forgets  his 
friend  is  ungrateful  unto  him ;  but  he  that  for- 
gets his  Saviour  is  unmerciful  to  himself.  He 
that  lives  in  sin,  and  looks  for  happiness  here- 
after, is  like  him  that  soweth  cockle,  and  thinks 


THE  ROTTEN  TREE.  4G5 

to  fill  his  barn  with  wheat  or  barley.  If  a  man 
would  live  well,  let  him  feteh  his  last  day  to 
him.  and  make  it  always  his  company -keeper. 
AVliisj)erin<i-,  and  ehang-e  of  thoughts,  prove  that 
sin  is  in  the  world.  If  the  world,  which  God 
sets  light  by.  is  counted  a  thing  of  that  worth 
with  men,  what  is  heaven,  that  God  connnend- 
eth  ?  If  the  life  that  is  attended  with  so  many 
troubles,  is  so  loath  to  be  let  go  by  us,  what  is 
the  life  above?  Every  body  will  cry  up  the  good- 
ness of  men ;  but  who  is  there  that  is,  as  he  should 
be,  affected  with  the  goodness  of  God?  We 
seldom  sit  down  to  meat,  but  we  eat,  and  leave ; 
so  there  is  in  Jesus  Christ  more  merit  and  right- 
eousness than  the  whole  world  has  need  of." 

When  the  Interpreter  had  done,  he  takes 
them  out  into  his  garden  again,  and  had  them 
roueni't'hcarr  to  a  trcc  whosc  Insldc  was  all  rotten 
and  gone,  and  yet  it  grew  and  had  leaves. 
Then  said  Mercy,  "What  means  this?"'  "This 
tree,"'  said  he,  "whose  outside  is  fair,  and  whose 
inside  is  rotten,  is  that  to  which  many  may  be 
compared  that  are  in  the  garden  of  God ;  who 
wnth  their  mouths  speak  Iiigli  In  behalf  of  (Jod, 
but  indeed  will  do  nothing  for  him;-  whose 
leaves  are  fair,  but  their  heart  good  for  noth- 
ing but  to  be  tinder  for  the  devil's  tinder-box." 
20* 


466  riLG  RIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now  supper  was  ready,  the  table  spread, 
and  all  things  set  on  the  board ;  so  supper.  ^'^'^  "' 
they  sat  down,  and  did  eat,  when  one  had  given 
thanks.  And  the  Interpreter  did  usually  en- 
tertain those  that  lodged  with  him  with  music 
at  meals ;  so  the  minstrels  played.  There  Avas 
also  one  that  did  sing,  and  a  very  fine  voice  he 
had.     His  song  was  this : 

"  The  Lord  is  only  my  support, 
And  he  that  doth  me  feed ; 
How  can  I  then  Avant  any  thing 
Whereof  I  stand  in  need  ?" 

When  the- song  and  music  were  ended,  the 
Interpreter  asked  Christiana  what  it  Taik  at  supper, 
was  that  at  first  did  move  her  thus  to  betake 
herself  to  a  pilgrim's  life.  Christiana  answered, 
"First,  the  loss  of  my  husband  came    a  repetition 

of      Cliristian'8 

into  my  mind,  at  which  I  was  heart-  experience. 
ily  grieved ;  but  all  that  was  but  natural  aifec- 
tion.  Then  after  that  came  the  troubles  and 
pilgrimage  of  my  husband  into  my  mind,  and 
also  how  like  a  churl  I  had  carried  it  to  him 
as  to  that.  So  guilt  took  hold  of  my  mind,  and 
would  have  drawn  me  into  the  pond,  but  thct 
opportunely  I  had  a  dream  of  the  well-being 
of  my  husband,  and  a  letter  sent  me  by  the 
King  of  that  country  where  my  husband  dwells, 
to  come  to  him.     The  dream  and  the  letter  to- 


(■inn^TiANA\>?  i-:xi'i:itii:N('i;.         4(h 

gether  so  wrought  upon   my  mind   that    they 
forced  mo  to  this  way.' 

IxTEK.  But  mot  you  with  no  opposition  be- 
fore you  set  out  of  doors  ? 

Ohr.  Yes,  a  noiglibor  of  mine,  one  Mrs. 
Timorous:  she  was  akin  to  him  that  woukl  liave 
persuaded  my  husband  to  go  back,  for  fear  of 
the  lions.  She  also  befooled  me  for,  as  she 
called  it,  my  intended  desperate  adventure ;  she 
also  urged  what  she  could  to  dishearten  me 
from  it,  the  hardships  and  troubles  that  my 
husband  met  with  in  the  way;  but  all  this  I 
got  over  pretty  well.  But  a  dream  that  I  had 
of  two  ill-looking  ones,  that  I  thought  did  plot 
how  to  make  me  miscari-y  in  my  journey,  that 
hath  troubled  me  much ;  yea,  it  still  runs  in 
my  mind,  and  makes  me  afraid  of  every  one 
that  I  meet,  lest  they  should  meet  me  to  do 
me  a  mischief,  and  to  turn  me  out  of  my  way. 
Yea,  I  may  tell  my  Lord,  though  I  would  not 
have  every  body  know  of  it.  that  between  this 
and  the  gate  by  which  wc;  got  into  the  way,  wc 
were  both  so  sorely  assaulted  that  we  were 
made  to  cry  out  murder;  and  the  two  that  made 
this  assault  upon  us,  were  like  the  two  that  I 
saw  in  my  dream. 

Then  said  tlic  Tnterprc'tor.    "Thy  l)eiTinning 


468  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


is  good ;  thy  latter  end  shall  greatly  increase.'' 
So  he  addressed  himself  to  Mercy,  to^^erc?'"^"' 
and  said  unto  her,  "And  what  moved  thee  to 
come  hither,  sweetheart?" 

Then  Mercy  blushed  and  trembled,  and  for 
a  while  continued  silent. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  "Be  not  afraid; 
only  believe,  and  speak  thy  mind." 

So  Mercy  began,  and  said,  "Truly,  sir,  my 
want  of  experience  is  that  which  Mercys  reply. 
makes  me  covet  to  be  in  silence,  and  that  also 
that  fills  me  with  fears  of  coming  short  at  last. 
I  cannot  tell  of  visions  and  dreams,  as  my 
frienci  Christiana  can ;  nor  know  I  what  it  is 
to  mourn  for  my  refusing  the  counsel  of  those 
that  were  good  relations." 

Inter.  What  was  it,  then,  dear  heart,  that 
hath  prevailed  with  thee  to  do  as  thou  hast 
done  ? 

Mer.  Why,  when  our  friend  here  was  pack- 
ing up  to  be  gone  from  our  town,  I  and  an- 
other went  accidentally  to  see  her.  So  we 
knocked  at  the  door  and  went  in.  When  we 
were  within,  and  seeing  what  she  was  doing, 
Ave  asked  her  what  was  her  meaning.  She  said 
she  was  sent  for  to  go  to  her  husband;  and 
then  she  up  and  told  us  how  she  had  seen  him 


MERCY'S  EXPERIENCE.  469 

in  a  dream,  dwollinp:  in  a  curious  place,  amoiin; 
immortals,  weariup:  a  crown,  i)layinf?  upon  a 
harp,  eating  and  drinking  at  his  I^rincc's  table, 
and  singing  praises  to  him  for  bringing  him 
thither,  etc.  Now,  uiethonght,  while  she  was 
telling  these  things  unto  us,  my  heart  burned 
within  me.  And  I  said  in  my  heart,  If  this 
be  true,  I  will  leave  my  father  and  my  mother, 
and  the  land  of  my  nativity,  and  will,  if  T  may, 
go  along  with  Christiana.  So  I  asked  her  fur- 
ther of  the  truth  of  these  things,  and  if  she 
would  let  me  go  with  her;  for  I  saw  now  that 
there  was  no  dwelling,  ))ut  Avitli  the  danger  of 
ruin,  any  longer  in  our  town.  JUit  yet  I  eame 
away  with  a  heavy  heart;  not  for  that  I  was 
unwilling  to  come  away,  but  for  that  so  many 
of  my  relations  were  left  behind.  And  I  am 
come  with  all  the  desire  of  my  heart,  and  will 
go,  if  I  may.  with  Christiana  unto  her  husband 
and  his  King. 

Inter.  Thy  setting  out  is  good,  for  thou 
hast  given  credit  to  the  truth;  thou  art  a  Ruth, 
who  did,  for  the  love  she  bore  to  Naomi  and 
to  the  Lord  her  God,  leave  father  and  mothei-, 
and  the  land  of  her  nativity,  to  come  out  and 
go  with  a  peoi)le  that  she  knew  not  heretofore. 
"The  Lord  recompense  thy  Avork,  and  a  full 


470  .       riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

reward  be  given  thee  of  the  Lord  God  of  Is- 
rael, under  whose  wings  thou  art  come  to  trust." 
Ruth'2:ll,  12. 

Now  supper  was  ended,  and  preparation 
was  made  for  bed ;  the  women  were    They  undress 

themselves     for 

laid  singly  alone,  and  the  boys  by  ^''^■ 
themselves.  Now,  when  Mercy  was  in  bed, 
she  could  not  sleep  for  joy,  for  that  now  her 
doubts  of  missing  at  last  were  removed  further 
from  her  than  ever  they  were  before.  So  she 
lay  blessing  and  praising  God,  who  night'rrifsr'''^ 
had  such  favor  for  her. 

In  the  morning  they  arose  with  the  sun, 
and  prepared  themselves  for  their  departure ; 
but  the  Interpreter  would  have  them  tarry  a 
while;  "for,"  said  he,  "you  must  orderly  go 
from  hence."  Then  said  he  to  the  damsel  that 
first  opened  unto  them,  "Take  them  and  have 
them  into  the  garden  to  the  bath,  sanctification"' 
and  there  Avash  them  and  make  them  clean 
from  the  soil  which  they  have  gathered  by 
travelling."  Then  Innocent  the  damsel  took 
them  and  led  them  into  the  garden,  and  brought 
them  to  the  bath ;  so  she  told  them  that  there 
they  must  wash  and  be  clean,  for  so  her  Mas- 
ter would  have  the  women  to  do  that  called  at 
his  house  as  they  were  going  on  pilgrimage. 


w.\<iii;i)  AND  .<i:alei».  471 

Then  tlicv  went  ill  and  washed,  yea,  tlicy  and 
ihe&""'""  the  l...ys.  and  all:  and  tliey\'anie 
out  of  that  l)aTh  not  (inly  sweet  and  elean.  l)ut 
also  mucli  enlivened  and  strengthened  in  their 
johits.  So  when  they  came  in.  they  looked 
fairer  a  deal  than  when  they  went  out  to  the 
washing. 

When  they  were  returned  out  of  the  garden 
from  the  bath,  the  Interpreter  took  them  and 
looked  upon  them,  and  said  unto  them,  "Fair 
as  the  moon."  Then  he  called  for  the  seal 
wherewith  they  used  to  he  sealed  that  were 
washed  in  his  bath.  So  the  seal  was  brought, 
arlseai^^'^""'  aud  hc  sct  hls  mark  upon  them,  that 
they  might  be  known  in  the  places  whither, 
they  were  yet  to  go.  Xow  the  seal  was  the 
contents  and  sum  of  the  passover  which  the 
children  of  Israel  did  eat,  Kxod.  13:8-10, 
when  they  came  out  of. the  land  of  P^gy pt;  and 
the  mark  was  set  between  their  eyes.  This 
seal  greatly  added  to  their  beauty,  for  it  was 
an  ornament  to  their  faces.  It  also  added  to 
their  gravity,  and  made  their  countenances 
more  like  those  of  angels. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again  to  the  dam- 
sel that  waited  upon  these  women.  "Go  into 
the  vestry,  and  fetch  out  garments  for  these 


472  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

people."  So  she  went  and  fetched  out  white 
raiment,  and  laid  it  down  before  him ;  are  dothef""' 
so  he  commanded  them  to  put  it  on :  it  was  fine 
linen,  white  and  clean.  When  the  women  were 
thus  adorned,  they  seemed  to  be  a  terror  one 
to  the  other ;  for  that  thej  could  not  see  that 
glory  each  one  had  in  herself,  which  True  humiiuy. 
they  could  see  in  each  other.  Now  therefore 
they  began  to  esteem  each  other  better  than 
themselves:  "For  you  are  fairer  than  I  am," 
said  one;  and,  "You  are  more  comely  than  I 
am,"  said  another.  The  children  also  stood 
amazed,  to  see  into  what  fashion  they  were 
brought. 


GREAT-HEART.  473 


THE  THIRD  STAGE. 

The  Interpreter  then  ealled  for  a  man-ser- 
vant of  lii:>;,  one  Great-heart,  and  bid  him  take 
a  sword  and  helmet  and  shield,  and,  "Take 
these  my  danghters,"  said  he,  "  eondnct  them 
to  the  liouse  called  Beautiful,  at  which  place 
they  will  rest  next/'  So  he  took  his  weapons, 
and  went  before  them;  and  the  Interpreter 
said,  "God  speed/'  Those  also  that  belonged 
to  the  family  sent  them  away  with  many  a  good 
wish.     So  they  went  on  their  way,  and  sang. 

This  place  liath  been  our  second  stage: 

Here  we  have  heard  and  seen 
Those  good  things,  that  from  age  to  age 

To  others  hid  have  been. 

The  dunghill-raker,  spider,  hen, 

The  chicken,  too,  to  me 
Have  taught  a  lesson :  let  me  then 
Conformed  to  it  be. 

The  butcher,  garden,  and  the  field, 

The  robin  and  his  bait, 
Also  the  rotten  tree,  doth  yield 

Me  argument  of  weight, 

To  move  me  for  to  watch  and  pray, 

To  strive  to  be  sincere ; 
To  take  my  cross  up  day  by  da}', 

And  serve  the  Lord  with  fear. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  went 
on,  and  Great-heart  before  them.     So  thev 


474  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

went,  and  came  to  the  place  where  Christian's 
burden  fell  off  his  back  and  tumbled  into  a  sep- 
ulchre. Here  then  they  made  a  pause ;  here 
also  they  blessed  God.  "Now,''  said  Chris- 
tiana, "it  comes  to  my  mind  what  was  said  to 
us  at  the  gate,  to  wit,  that  we  should  have 
pardon  by  word  and  deed:  by  word,  that  is, 
by  the  promise ;  by  deed,  to  wit,  in  the  way 
it  was  obtained.  What  the  promise  is,  of  that 
I  know  something ;  but  what  it  is  to  have  par- 
don by  deed,  or  in  the  way  that  it  was  ob- 
tained, Mr.  Great-heart,  I  suppose  you  know; 
wherefore,  if  you  please,  let  us  hear  your  dis- 
course thereof." 

Great-heart.  Pardon  by  the  deed  done,  is 
pardon  obtained  by  some  one  for  an-    a    comment 

A  "^  upon  what  was 

other  that  hath  need  thereof;  not  by  ^f^cu^coSSeof 

our  beins  justi- 

the  person  pardoned,  but  ni  the  way,  fiecibychnst. 
saith  another,  in  which  I  have  obtained  it.  So 
then,  to  speak  to  the  question  more  at  large, 
the  pardon  that  you  and  Mercy  and  these 
boys  have  attained,  was  obtained  by  another; 
to  wit,  by  him  that  let  you  in  at  the  gate. 
And  he  hath  obtained  it  in  this  double  way ; 
he  hath  performed  righteousness  to  cover  you, 
and  spilt  his  blood  to  wash  you  in. 

Christiana.  But  if  he  parts  with  his  right- 


.TU^TiriED   BY   ("IIRIST.  475 

eousncss  to  iis.  what  will  Ik^  liavc  for  liiin- 
seir? 

Gkeat.  He  has  more  righteousness  than 
you  have  nee<l  of,  or  than  he  needeth  himself. 

Chr.  Pray  make  that  appear. 

GiiEAT.  AVith  all  my  heart:  l)ut  lirst  I  must 
premise,  that  lie  of  whom  we  are  now  about 
to  speak,  is  one  that  has  not  his  fellow.  He 
has  two  natures  in  one  i)erson.  })lain  to  be  dis- 
tinguished, impossible  to  be  divided.  Unto 
each  of  these  natures  a  righteousness  belong- 
eth.  and  eaeh  righteousness  is  essential  to  that 
nature;  so  that  one  may  as  easily  cause  the 
nature  to  be  extinct,  as  to  separate  its  justice 
or  righteousness  from  it.  Of  these  righteous- 
nesses, therefore,  we  are  not  made  j)artakers, 
so  as  that  they,  or  any  of  them,  should  be  i)ut 
upon  us,  that  we  might  be  made  just,  and  live 
thereby.  Besides  these,  there  is  a  righteous- 
ness which  this  person  has.  as  these  two  na- 
tures are  joined  in  one.  And  this  is  not  the 
righteou.sness  of  the  Godhead  as  distinguished 
from  the  manhood,  nor  the  righteousness  of  the 
manhood  as  distinguished  from  the  Godhead; 
but  a  righteousness  which  standeth  in  th'e  union 
of  both  natures,  and  may  properly  be  called 
the  righteousness  that  is  essential  to  his  being 


476  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

prepared  of  God  to  the  capacity  of  the  media- 
tory office,  which  he  was  intrusted  with.  If  he 
parts  with  his  first  righteousness,  he  parts  with 
his  Godhead ;  if  he  parts  with  his  second  right- 
eousness, he  parts  with  the  purity  of  his  man- 
hood ]  if  he  parts  with  his  third,  he  parts  with 
that  perfection  which  capacitates  him  for  the 
office  of  mediation.  He  has  therefore  another 
righteousness,  which  standeth  in  performance, 
or  obedience  to  a  revealed  will;  and  that  is 
what  he  puts  upon  sinners,  and  that  by  which 
their  sins  are  covered.  Wherefore  he  saith, 
"As  by  one  man's  disobedience  many  were 
made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience  of  one  shall 
many  be  made  righteous."     Eom.  5  :  19. 

Chr.  But  are  the  other  righteousnesses  of 
no  use  to  us  ? 

Great.  Yes ;  for  though  they  are  essential 
to  his  natures  and  office,  and  cannot  be  com- 
municated unto  another,  yet  it  is  by  virtue  of 
them  that  the  righteousness  that  justifies  is  for 
that  purpose  efficacious.  The  righteousness  of 
his  Godhead  giveth  virtue  to  his  obedience ;  the 
righteousness  of  his  manhood  giveth  capability 
to  his  obedience  to  justify;  and  the  righteous- 
ness that  standeth  in  the  union  of  these  two 
natures  to  his  office,  giveth  authority  to  that 


I'iulitoousnoss  (o  do  tlic  work  for  w]iic]i  it  was 
oi'tlaiiied. 

J^o  then  luM'c  is  a  riu-litt'ousiicss  tliat  riirisl, 
as  God,  has  no  need  of;  lor  he  is  God  witliout 
it.  Ilrro  is  a  righteousness  that  Ghrist,  as 
man.  has  no  need  of  to  make  liim  so:  for  lie  is 
perfect  man  withont  it.  Again,  here  is  a  right- 
eousness that  Christ,  as  God-man,  has  no  need 
of:  for  he  is  j)erfectly  so  without  it.  Here 
then  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God, 
and  as  God-man.  has  no  need  of  with  reference 
to  himself,  and  therefore  he  can  spare  it :  a  Jus- 
tifying righteousness  that  he  for  himself  want- 
eth  not.  and  therefore  giveth  it  away.  Hence 
it  is  called  the  gift  of  righteousness.  This  right- 
eousness, since  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord  has  made 
himself  under  the  law,  must  be  given  away; 
for  the  law  doth  not  only  bind  him  that  is 
under  it  to  do  justly,  but  to  use  charity.  Rom. 
5:17.  Wherefore  he  must,  or  ought  by  the 
law.  if  he  hath  two  coats,  to  give  one  to  him 
that  hath  none.  Now,  our  Lord  indeed  hath 
two  coats,  one  for  himself,  and  one  to  spare; 
wherefore  he  freely  bestows  one  upon  those 
that  have  none.  And  thus,  Christiana  and 
Mercy,  and  the  rest  of  you  that  are  here,  doth 
your  pardon  come  by  deed,  or  hy  the  work  of 


478  1'TL(;T!I.M\-  PROCl^ESS. 

another  man.  Your  Lord  Christ  is  he  that 
worked,  and  hath  given  away  what  he  wrought 
for,  to  the  next  poor  beggar  he  meets. 

But  again,  in  order  to  pardon  by  deed, 
there  must  something  be  paid  to  God  as  a 
price,  as  well  as  something  prepared  to  cover 
us  withal.  Sin  has  delivered  us  up  to  the  just 
curse  of  a  righteous  law ;  now  from  this  curse 
we  must  be  justified  by  way  of  redemption,  a 
price  being  paid  for  the  harms  we  have  done ; 
and  this  is  by  the  blood  of  your  Lord,  who 
came  and  stood  in  your  place  and  stead,  and 
died  your  death  for  your  transgressions.  Thus 
has  he  ransomed  you  from  your  transgressions 
by  blood,  and  covered  your  polluted  and  de- 
formed souls  with  righteousness,  Rom.  8:34; 
for  the  sake  of  which,  God  passeth  by  you, 
and  will  not  hurt  you  when  he  comes  to  judge 
the  world.     Gal.  3:13. 

Chr.  This  is  brave!  Now  I  see  that  there 
was  something  to  be  learned  by  our  it.ctedUurthfs 
being  pardoned  by  word  and  deed,  tion.''  "'"'"'^' 
Good  Mercy,  let  us  labor  to  keep  this  in  mind ; 
and,  my  children,  do  you  remember  it  also. 
But,  sir,  was  not  this  it  that  made  my  good 
Christian's  burden  fall  from  off  his  shoulders, 
and  that  made  him  give  three  leaps  for  joy  ? 


TiiK  cr.Aci:  OF  ('in;  1ST.  iT'.i 

Great.  Yes.  it  was  llic  belief  of  lliis  tliai 
iiowthecords  cut  tliose  striiin's  that  could  not  be 

Ihat       fastened  . 

<  hristian s  bur- cut  bv  otliei"  uieaus :  aud   it  was  to 

flen  to  liim  were 

*"'■"  give   him   a   j)roof  of  the  virtue  of 

this,  that  he  was  suffered  to  carry  his  burden 
to  the  cross. 

Chr.  I  thouuht  SO:  for  though  my  lieart 
was  lightsome  and  Joyous  before,  yet  it  is  ten 
times  more  lightsome  and  joyous  now.  And  I 
am  persuaded  ])y  what  I  have  felt,  though  I 
liave  felt  but  little  as  yet,  that  if  the  most  bur- 
dened man  in  the  world  was  here,  and  did  see 
and  believe  as  I  now  do,  it  would  make  his 
heart  the  more  merry  and  ])lithe. 

Great.  There  is  not  only  comfort  and  the 
How ancction  casc  of  n  burdcu  brouaht  to  us  bv 

to  Christ  is  l)c-  "" 

got  in  the  soul,  (j-ip  s[cr\i{  aud  cousidcration  of  these, 
but  an  endeared  affection  begot  in  us  ])y  it; 
for  who  can,  if  he  doth  but  once  think  that 
pardon  comes  not  only  by  promise  but  thus, 
but  be  alfected  with  the  way  and  means  of  his 
redemption,  and  so  with  the  man  that  hath 
wrought  it  for  him  ? 

CiiR.  True:  methinks  it  makes  my  heart 
bleed  to  think  that  he  should  bleed  for  me. 
Oh,  thou  loving  One :  Oh,  thou  blessed  One. 
Thou  deservest  to  have  me;  thou  hast  bought 


480  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 

me.  Thoii  deservest  to  have  me  all:  thou  hast 
paid  for  me  ten  thousand  times  more  mSumi."^  '"^' 
than  I  am  worth.  No  marvel  that  this  made 
the  tears  stand  in  my  husband's  e3'es,  and  that 
it  made  him  trudge  so  nimbly  on.  I  am  per- 
suaded he  wished  me  with  him ;  but,  vile  wretch 
that  I  was,  I  let  him  come  all  alone.  Oh,  Mer- 
cy, that  thy  father  and  mother  were  here ;  j'ea, 
and  Mrs.  Timorous  also ;  nay,  I  wish  now  with 
all  my  heart  that  here  was  Madam  Wanton  too. 
Surely,  surel}',  their  hearts  would  be  affected ; 
nor  could  the  fear  of  the  one,  nor  the  powerful 
lusts  of  the  other,  prevail  with  them  to  go  home 
again,  and  refuse  to  become  good  pilgrims. 

Great.  You  speak  now  in  the  warmth  of 
your  affections;  Avill  it,  think  you,  be  always 
thus  with  you  ?  Besides,  this  is  not  communi- 
cated to  ever}'  one,  nor  to  every  one  that  did 
see  your  Jesus  bleed.  There  were  that  stood 
by,  and  that  saw  the  blood  run  from  his  heart 
to  the  ground,  and  yet  were  so  far  off  this,  that 
instead  of  lamenting  they  laughed  at  him,  and 
instead  of  becoming  his  disciples  did  xobeafiected 
harden  their  hearts  against  him.    So  with  what"  he 

^  lias    clone,  is  a 

that  all  that  you  have,  my  daughters,  ^'""g  «r-<^i-i- 
you  have  by  peculiar  impression  made  by  a 
divine  contemplating  upon  what  I  have  spoken 


END  OF  THE  FOOLISH  ONES.  481 

t(i  you.  Roiiiember,  tliut  "t  was  told  you,  that 
the  hcu,  by  her  common  call,  gives  no  meat  to 
her  chickens.  This  you  have  therefore  by  a 
special  grace. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went 
on  until  they  were  come  to  the  place  that  Sim- 
ple and  Sloth  and  Presumption  lay  and  slept 
in  when  Christian  went  by  on  pilgrimage ;  and 
behold,  they  were  hanged  up  in  irons  a  little 
way  off  on  the  other  side. 

Then  said  Mercy  to  him  that  was  their 
and"  PrmJ- c^"^^^  ^^^'^  couductor,  '"Wliat  are 
and why!'"^'"'' these  three  men;  and  for  what  are 
they  hanged  there  ?"' 

Great.  These  three  were  men  of  bad  qual- 
ities; they  had  no  mind  to  be  pilgrims  them- 
selves, and  whomsoever  the}'  could  they  hin- 
dered. They  were  sloth  and  folly  themselves, 
and  whomsoever  they  could  persuade  they 
made  so  too,  and  withal  taught  them  to  pre- 
sume that  they  should  do  well  at  last.  They 
were  asleep  when  Christian  went  by ;  and  now 
you  go  by,  they  are  hanged, 

Mer.  But  could  they  persuade  any  to  be 
of  their  opinion  ? 

Great.  Yes,  they  turned  several  out  of  the 
way.    There  was  Slow-pace  that  they  persuad- 


482  riLGr.i.\r\^  pi^oot^ess. 

ed  to  do  as  the}'.  They  also  prevailed  with 
one  Short-wind,  with  one  No-heart,  Their  crimes. 
with  one  Linger-after-lust,  and  with  one  Sleepy- 
head, and  with  a  yonng  woman,  her  name  was 
Dnll,  to  tnrn  out  of  the  way  and  become  as 
(hey.  Besides,  they  brought  up.  an  ill-report 
of  your  Lord,  persuading  others  that  he  was  a 
hard  taskmaster.  They  also  brought  up  an 
evil  report  of  the  good  land,  saying  it  was  not 
half  so  good  as  some  pretended  it  was.  They 
also  began  to  vilify  his  servants,  and  to  count 
the  best  of  them  meddlesome,  troublesome 
busj^bodies.  Further,  they  would  call  the  bread 
of  God  husks ;  the  comforts  of  his  children  fan- 
cies; the  travel  and  labor  of  pilgrims,  things 
to  no  purpose. 

"Nay,"  said  Christiana,  "if  they  were  such, 
they  should  never  be  bewailed  by  me:  they 
have  but  what  they  deserve ;  and  I  think  it  is 
well  that  they  stand  so  near  the  highway,  that 
others  may  see  and  take  warning.  But  had  it 
not  been  well  if  their  crimes  had  been  engrav- 
en in  some  plate  of  iron  or  brass,  and  left  here 
where  they  did  their  mischiefs,  for  a  caution 
to  other  bad  men  ?"' 

GrREAT.  So  it  is,  as  you  may  well  perceive, 
if  you  will  go  a  little  to  the  wall. 


THE  IIIF.L  DIFFICULTY.  483 

^rEKCY.  Xo,  no;  let  (liom  luin^::,  and  (heir 
names  rot.  and  tlicir  crinics  Hyo  for  ever 
ag-ainst  tluMn.  I  tliiid;  it  a  liigli  favor  tliat 
tliey  were  lianged  before  we  eamc  liitlier:  who 
knows  else  wliat  they  might  have  done  to  such 
j)oor  women  as  we  are  ? 

Tlieii  slie  turned  it  into  a  song,  saying, 

'■  Xow  then  you  three  liang  there,  and  be  a  sign 
To  all  that  shall  against  the  truth  combine. 
And  let  him  that  comes  after  fear  this  end, 
If  unto  i)ilgrims  he  is  not  a  friend. 
And  thou,  my  soul,  of  all  such  men  beware, 
That  unto  holiness  opposcrs  are."' 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the 
foot  of  the  hill  DifTiculty,  where  again  the  good 
Mr.  Great-heart  took  an  occasion  to  tell  them 
what  happened  there  when  Christian  himself 
went  by.  So  he  had  them  lirst  to  the  spring. 
'"Lo,"  saith  he,  "this  is  the  spring  that  Chris- 
tian drank  of  before  he  went  up  this  hill:  and 
^cui.ig oi- goo.!  tlic'ii  it  was  clear  and  good;  but  now 

doctrine  in  erro     •■•        t;  -jIji         p       ,        p  .-, 

nt-ous times.  it  IS  du'ty  With  thc  fcct  of  somc  that 
are  not  desirous  that  pilgrims  here  should 
quench  their  thirst."'  Ezek.  34  :18,  19.  There- 
at Mercy  said,  '"And  why  so  envious,  trow?"' 
"But,"'  said  their  guide,  "it  will  do,  if  taken 
up  and  put  into  a  vessel  that  is  sweet  and 
ffood;  for  tlien  tlie  dii-t  will  sink  to  the  bottom, 


484  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  the  water  come  out  by  itself  more  clear." 
Thus  therefore  Christiana  and  her  companions 
were  compelled  to  do.  Tliey  took  it  up,  and 
put  it  into  an  earthen  pot,  and  so  let  it  stand 
till  the  dirt  was  gone  to  the  bottom,  and  then 
they  drank  thereof. 

Next  he  showed  them  the  two  by-ways 
that  were  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  Formal- 
ity and  Hypocrisy  lost  themselves.  "And," 
said  he,  "these  are  dangerous  paths.  Two 
were  here  cast  away  when  Christian  came  b}' ; 
and  although,  as  you  see,  these  ways     The    paths, 

_  .   ,  1      .  though    barred 

are   since  stopped  up  with  chains,  up.wmnotkeep 

I  i^  i^  'all   Irom  going 

posts,    and  a  ditch,   yet   there    arc  '"♦'i«^™- 
those  that  will  choose  to  adventure  here,  rather 
than  take  the  pains  to  go  up  this  hill." 

Celr.  "The  way  of  transgressors  is  hard." 
Prov.  13:15.  It  is  a  wonder  that  they  can 
get  into  these  ways  without  danger  of  break- 
ing their  necks. 

GrREAT.  Thc}^  will  vcuturc ;  yea,  if  at  any 
time  any  of  the  King's  servants  do  happen  to 
see  them,  and  do  call  upon  them,  and  tell  them 
that  they  are  in  the  wrong  way,  and  do  bid 
them  beware  of  the  danger,  then  they  railingly 
return  them  answer,  and  say,  "As  for  the  word 
that  thou  hast  spoken  unto  us  in  the  name  of 


Tllf]   II  I  LI,   DIFFICULTY.  485 

the  King,  wc  will  not  hearken  unto  thec;  but 
we  will  certainly  do  whatsoever  thing  goeth 
out  of  our  own  mouth."'  Jer.  44  :  ]  0,  17.  Xay 
if  you  look  a  little  further,  you  shall  see  that 
these  ways  are  made  cautionary  enough,  not 
only  by  these  posts  and  ditch  and  cluiiu  but 
also  by  being  hedged  up;  yet  they  will  choose 
to  go  there. 

Cur.  They  are  idle ;  they  love  not  to  take 
why'^'son^^'do  pains ;  up-hill  wav  is  unpleasant  to 

choose  to  go  in   J 1  oi       .  ^  ' 

by-ways.  them.  So  It  IS  fullilled  unto  them  as 
it  is  written,  "The  way  of  the  slothful  inan  is 
as  a  hedge  of  thorns.''  Prov.  15  :19.  Yea, 
they  will  rather  choose  to  walk  upon  a  snare 
than  to  go  up  this  hill,  and  the  rest  of  this  way 
to  the  city. 

Then  they  set  forward,  and  began  to  go  up, 
the  hill,  and  up  the  hill  they  went.^.  But  before^ 
thr'p^,g'il!nr/o^  they  got  to  the  top,  Christiana  ])egan 
•'  to  pant,  and  said,  "T  dare  sav  this 

is  a  breathing  hill:  no  marvel  if  thev  that 
love  their  ease  more  than  their  souls  choose 
to  themselves  a  smoother  way."'  Then  said 
Mercy,  "I  must  sit  down;"  also  the  least  of 
the  children  began  to  cry.  "Tome,  come,'' 
said  Great-heart,  "sit  not  down  here;  for  a 
little  above  is  the  Prince's  aibor."     Then  he 


486  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

took  the  little  boy  by  the  hand,  and  led  him 
up  thereto. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  arbor,  they 
were  very  willing  to  sit  down,  for  arbor.^''*'''^'''' 
they  were  all  in  a  pelting  heat.  Then  said 
Mercy,  "How  sweet  is  rest  to  them  that  labor. 
Matt.  11:28;  and  how  good  is  the  Prince  of 
pilgrims  to  provide  such  resting-places  for 
them  !  Of  this  arbor  I  have  heard  much;  but 
I  never  saw  it  before.  But  here  let  us  beware 
of  sleeping;  for,  as  I  have  heard,  it  cost  poor 
Christian  dear." 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  little 
ones,  "Come,  my  pretty  boys,  how  do  you  do? 
What  think  you  now  of  going  on  pilgrimage  ?" 
"Sir,"  said  the  least;  "I  was  almost  answer^fo^The 
beat  out  of  heart ;  but  I  thank  you  fo^Mercy!"^  *''*' 
for  lending-  me  a  hand  at  my  need.  And  I 
remember  now  what  iny  mother  hath  told  me, 
namely,  that  the  way  to  heaven  is  as  a  ladder, 
and  the  way  to  hell  is  as  down  a  hill.  But  I 
had  rather  go  up  the  ladder  to  life,  than  down 
the  hill  to  death." 

Then  said  Mercy,  "But  the  proverb  is,  'To 
go  down  the  hill  is  easy.'"  But  James  said, 
(for  that  was  his  name,)  "The  day  is  coming 
when,  in  my  opinion,  going  down  the  hill  will 


THE   nilNCES  ARBOR.  487 

be  the  hardest  of  all."  "Tis  a  good  boy," 
said  his  master:  'thou  hast  given  her  a  right 
answer."  Then  Mercy  smiled.  l)nt  the  little 
boy  did  blush. 

"Come,''  said  Christiana,  "will  you  eat  a 
thlmseivcs'^'"'''''  bit  to  swcetcn  your  mouths,  while 
you  sit  here  to  rest  your  legs  ?  for  I  have  here 
a  piece  of  pomegranate  which  Mr.  Interpreter 
put  into  my  hand  just  when  I  came  out  of  his 
door;  he  gave  me  also  a  piece  of  a  honev- 
c©mb,  and  a  little  bottle  of  spirits.''  'I  thought 
he  gave  you  something,"  said  Mercy,  "because 
he  called  you  aside."  "Yes,  so  he  did,"  said 
the  other;  "but,"  said  Christiana,  "it  shall  be 
still  as  I  said  it  should,  when  at  first  we  came 
from  home ;  thou  shalt  be  a  sharer  in  all  the 
good  that  I  have,  because  thou  so  willingly 
didst  become  my  companion."  Then  she  gave 
to  them,  and  they  did  eat,  both  Mercy  and  the 
boys.  And  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Great-heart, 
"Sir,  will  you  do  as  we?"  But  he  answered, 
"You  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  and  presently 
I  shall  return ;  much  good  may  what  you  have 
do  you :  at  home  I  eat  the  same  every  day." 


488  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


THE  FOURTH  STAGE. 

Now  when  they  had  eaten  and  drank,  and 
had  chatted  a  little  longer,  their  gnide  said  to 
them,  "The  day  wears  away;  if  yon  think 
good,  let  us  prepare  to  be  going."  So  they 
got  up  to  go,  and  the  little  boys  went  before ; 
but  Christiana  foro;ot  to  take  her  bot-    cumtianafor- 

""^  gets  her  bottle 

tie  of  spirits  with  her,  so  she  sent  ofspints. 
her  little  boy  back  to  fetch  it.  Then  said  Mer- 
cy, "  I  think  this  is  a  losing  place;  here  Chris- 
tian lost  his  roll,  and  here  Christiana  left  her 
bottle  behind  her.  Sir,  what  is  the  cause  of 
this?"  So  their  guide  made  answer,  and  said, 
"The  cause  is  sleep,  or  forgetfulness :  some 
sleep  when  they  should  keep  awake,  and  some 
forget  when  they  should  remember;  and  this 
is  the  very  cause  why  often,  at  the  resting- 
places,  some  pilgrims  in  some  things  come  off 
losers.  Pilgrims  should  watch,  and  remember 
what  they  have  already  received,  under  their 
greatest  enjoyments ;  but  for  want  of  doing  so, 
oftentimes  their  rejoicing  ends  in  Mark  this. 
tears,  and  their  sunshine  in  a  cloud:  witness 
the  story  of  Christian  at  this  place." 

When  they  were  come  to  the  place  where 


LI0N5  IN  THE  ROAD.  480 

Mistrust  and  Tiinoroiis  met  Christian,  to  per- 
suade him  to  go  back  for  fear  of  the  lions,  they 
perceived  as  it  were  a  stage,  and  before  it, 
towards  the  road,  a  broad  pUite  with  a  copy 
of  verses  written  thereon,  and  underneath  the 
reason  of  raising  up  that  stage  in  that  place 
rendered.     The  verses  were, 

'•  Let  liim  that  sees  this  stage,  take  heed 
Unto  his  heart  and  tongue  ; 
Lest,  if  he  do  not,  here  he  speed 
As  some  have  long  agone." 

The  words  underneath  the  verses  were, 
'"This  stage  was  built  to  punish  those  upon, 
who,  through  timorousness  or  mistrust,  shall 
be  afraid  to  go  further  on  pilgrimage.  Also, 
on  this  stage  both  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were 
burned  through  the  tongue  with  a  hot  iron,  for 
endeavoring  to  hinder  Christian  on  his  jour- 
uey." 

Then  said  Mercy,  "This  is  much  like  to  the 
saying  of  the  Beloved:  'AVhat  shall  be  given 
unto  thee.  f>r  what  shall  be  done  unto  thee, 
thou  false  tongue?  r^harp  arrows  of  the  mighty, 
with  coals  of  juniper."  "     Psa.  120  :  3,  4. 

So  they  went  on  till  they  came  within  sight 
of  the  lions.  Now  Mr.  G  reat-heart  was  a  strong 
man,  so  he  was  not  afraid  of  a  lion.  But  yet 
when  they  were  come  up  to  the  place  where 

21* 


490  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

tlie  lions  were,  the  boys,  that  went  before,  were 
now  glad  to  cringe  behind,  for  they  tho^i^a^tgri 
were  afraid  of  the  lions;    so  they  there  i^ nJarn" 

'  "^     ger,  but  shrink 

stepped  back,  and  went  behind.  At  come.  *'*'"^''' 
this  their  guide  smiled,  and  said,  "How  now, 
my  boys;  do  yon  love  to  go  before  when  no 
danger  doth  approach,  and  love  to  come  be- 
hind so  soon  as  the  lions  appear  ?" 

Now,  as  they  went  on,  Mr.  Great-heart 
drew  his  sword,  with  intent  to  make  a  way  for 
the  pilgrims  in  spite  of  the  lions.  Then  there 
appeared  one  that,  it  seems,  had  gi,^/t,aiuu.fMs 
taken  upon  him  to  back  the  lions ;  hons!"^ 
and  he  said  to  the  pilgrims'  guide,  "What  is 
the  cause  of  your  coming  hither?"  Now  the 
name  of  that  man  was  Grim,  or  Blood3^-man, 
because  of  his  slaying  of  pilgrims ;  and  he  was 
of  the  race  of  the  giants. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims'  guide,  "These  wom- 
en and  children  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  and 
this  is  the  way  they  must  go ;  and  go  it  they 
shall,  in  spite  of  thee  and  the  lions." 

Grim.  This  is  not  their  way,  neither  shall 
they  go  therein.  I  am  come  forth  to  withstand 
them,  and  to  that  end  will  back  the  lions. 

Now,  to  say  truth,  by  reason  of  the  fierce- 
ness of  the  lions,  and  of  the  grim  carriage  of 


tiil:  c  iant  (;i;i.m.  4i)l 

him  that  ditl  back  them,  this  way  had  of  late 
lain  mucli  iinoecupiecl,  and  was  almost  grown 
over  with  grass. 

Then  said  Christiana,  "Though  the  high- 
ways have  been  unoccupied  heretofore,  and 
though  the  travellers  have  been  made  in  times 
past  to  walk  through  by-patlis,  it  must  not  be 
so  now  I  am  risen,  now  1  am  risen  a  mother  in 
Israel.''     Judges  5:0,  7. 

Then  Grim  swore  by  the  lions  that  it  should ; 
ixrttl  therefore  bid  them  turn  aside,  for  they 
should  not  have  passage  there. 

But  Great-heart  their  guide  made  lirst  his 
A  light  be.  approach  unto   Grim,    and    laid    so 

tween  Grim  and 

Great-heart,  hcavlly  ou  hiui  witli  liis  sword  that 
he  forced  him  to  retreat. 

Then  said  he  that  attempted  to  back  the 
lions,  "Will  you  slay  me  upon  my  own  ground?"' 

Great.  It  is  the  King's  highway  that  we 
are  in,  and  in  this  way  it  is  that  thou  hast 
placed  the  lions ;  but  these  women,  and  these 
children,  though  weak,  shall  hold  on  their  way 
in  spite  of  thy  lions. 

And  with  that  he  gave  him  again  a  down- 
right blow,  and  brought  him  upon  his  knees. 
With  this  blow  also  he  broke  his  helmet,  and 
with   the  next  he  cut  oH'  an  arm.     Then  did 


492  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  giant  roar  so  hideously  that  his  voice  fright- 
ened the  women,  and  yet  they  were  glad  to  see 
him  lie  sprawling  upon  the  ground,  me  victory. 
Now  the  lions  were  chained,  and  so  of  them- 
selves could  do  nothing.  Wherefore,  when  old 
Grim,  that  intended  to  back  them,  was  dead,  Mr. 
Great-heart  said  to  the  pilgrims,  "Come  now, 
and  follow  me,  and  no  hurt  shall  happen  to  you 
from  the  lions."  They  therefore  went  nluLr'  ^^ 
on,  but  the  women  trembled  as  they  passed  by 
them ;  the  boys  also  looked  as  if  they  woifid 
die ;  but  they  all  got  by  without  further  hurt. 

Now,  when  they  were  within  sight  of  the 
porter's  lodge,  they  soon  came  up  unto  it;  but 
they  made  the  more  haste  after  this  to  go  thith- 
er, because  it  is  dangerous  travelling  there  in 
the  night.    So  when  they  were  come     They   come 

to   the   porter's 

to  the  gate,  the  guide  knocked,  and  ^«'^s<^ 
the  porter  cried,  "Who  is  there?"  But  as 
soon  as  the  guide  had  said,  "It  is  I,"  he  knew 
his  voice,  and  came  down,  for  the  guide  had 
oft  before  that  come  thither  as  a  conductor  of 
pilgrims.  When  he  was  come  down,  he  open- 
ed the  gate ;  and  seeing  the  guide  standing  just 
before  it,  (for  he  saw  not  the  women,  for  they 
were  behind  him.)  he  said  unto  him,  "Plow 
now,  Mr.  Great-heart,  what  is  j^our  business 


THE  PORTER'S  LODGE.  493 

here  so  late  at  night?''  '"I  have  brought,"  said 
he,  "some  pilgrims  hither,  where,  by  my  Lord's 
commandment,  they  must  lodge:  I  had  been 
here  some  time  ago,  had  I  not  been  opposed 
by  the  giant  that  did  use  to  back  the  lions. 
But  r.  after  a  long  and  tedious  combat  with 
him,  have  cut  him  off,  and  have  brought  the 
pilgrims  hither  in  safety." 

PoK.  Will  you  not  go  in,  and  stay  till  morn- 
ing ? 

Great  heart  GrEAT.    Xo,    I  wlll    rctum    tO   UIV 

attempts   to  go 

back.  XiOrd  to-night. 

Chr.  0  sir,  I  know  not  how  to  l)e  willing 
you  should  leave  us  in  our  pilgrimage:  you 
have  been  so  faithful  and  so  loving  to  us,  you 
have  fought  so  stoutly  for  us,  you  have  been 
so  hearty  in  counselling  of  us,  that  I  shall 
never  forget  your  favor  towards  us. 

Then  said  Mercy,  "0  that  we  might  have 
Tiie  pilgrims  thv  compEuy  to  our  journey's  end. 

implore  his  com- 
pany still.         How  can  such   poor   women   as  we 

hold  out  in  a  wa}'  so  full  of  troubles  as  this 

way  is,  without  a  friend  and  defender  ?" 

Then  said  James,  the  youngest  of  the  boys, 

"Pray,  sir,  be  persuaded  to  go  with  us,  and 

help  us,  because  we  are  so  weak,  and  the  way 

so  dangerous  as  it  is." 


494  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Great.  I  am  at  my  Lord's  commandment; 
if  he  shall  allot  me  to  be  your  guide  quite 
through,  I  will  willingly  wait  upon  you.  But 
here  you  failed  at  first ;  for  when  he    Help  lost  for 

want  of  asking 

bid  me  come  thus  far  with  you,  then  ^'°''"- 
you  should  have  begged  me  of  him  to  have 
gone  quite  through  with  you,  and  he  would 
have  granted  your  request.  However,  at  pres- 
ent I  must  withdraw ;  and  so,  good  Christiana, 
Mercy,  and  my  brave  children,  adieu. 

Then  the  porter,  Mr.  Watchful,  asked  Chris- 
tiana of  her  country,  and  of  her  kindred.  And 
she  said,  "I  came  from  the  city  of  Destruc- 
tion. I  am  a  widow  woman,  and  my  husband 
is  dead;  his  name  was  Christian  the  pilgrim." 
"How,"  said  the  porter,  "was  he  your  hus- 
band?" "Yes,"  said  she,  "and  these  are  his 
children;  and  this,"  pointing  to  Mercy,  "is  one 
of  my  toAvnswomen."  Then  the  porter  rang 
his  bell,  as  at  such  times  he  was  wont,  and 
there  came  to  the  door  one  of  the  damsels, 
whose  name  was  Humble-mind ;  and  to  her  the 
porter  said,  "Go  tell  it  within,  that  Christiana, 
the  wife  of  Christian,  and  her  children,  are 
come  hither  on   pili^rimaore."      She    joy  at  the 

•^      ^  °  news  of  the  pil- 

went  in  therefore,  and  told  it.     But  grids' coming. 
Oh,  what  noise  for  gladness  was  there  within 


TIIH    PALACE   HHAlTIFrL.  495 

wlic'ii  tlic  (lainscl  did  l)iil  drop  tluit  out  of  her 
mouth ! 

So  they  came  with  haste  to  the  porter,  Tor 
Christiana  stood  still  at  the  door.  Then  some 
of  the  most  grave  said  iinlo  her,  "Come  in, 
Christiana,  come  in,  thou  wile  of  that  good 
man;  come  in,  thou  blessed  woman,  come  in, 
with  all  that  are  with  thee."'  So  she  went  in, 
and  they  followed  her  that  were  her  children 
and  companions.  Now  when  they  were  gone 
in.  they  were  had  into  a  large  room,  where 
they  were  bidden  to  sit  down;  so  they  sat 
down,  and  the  chief  of  the  house  were  called 
to  see  and  welcome  the  guests.  Then  they 
came  in,  and  understanding  wdio  they  were, 
did  salute  each  other  with  a  kiss,  and  said, 
i^klndiTauhe  "  "^Velcomc,  ye  vessels  of  the  grace  of 
otCr.''  *'°^''"  God;  welcome  to  us,  j^our  friends." 

Xow,  because  it  was  somewhat  late,  and 
because  the  pilgrims  were  weary  with  their 
journey,  and  also  made  faint  with  the  sight  of 
the  fight  and  of  the  terrible  lions,  they  desired, 
as  soon  as  might  be,  to  prepare  to  go  to  rest. 
"Xay,"  said  those  of  the  family,  "refresh  your- 
selves first  with  a  morsel  of  meat ;"  for  they 
had  prepared  for  them  a  lamb,  with  the  accus- 
tomed sauce  belonging  thereto.  Exod.  12  :21; 


496  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

John  1 :  29  ;  for  the  porter  had  heard  before  of 
their  coming,  and  had  tokl  it  to  them  within. 
So  when  they  had  supped,  and  ended  their 
prayer  with  a  psahn,  they  desired  they  might 
go  to  rest. 

"But  let  ns,"'  said  Christiana,  "if  we  may 
be  so  bold  as  to  choose,  be  in  that  chamber 
that  was  my  husband's  when  he  was  here ;"  so 
they  had  them  up  thither,  and  they  all  lay  in  a 
room.  When  they  were  at  rest,  Christiana  and 
Mercy  entered  into  discourse  about  things  that 
were  convenient. 

Chr.  Little  did  I  think  once,  when  my 
husband  went  on  pilgrimage,  that  I   christs bosom 

is    for    all     pil- 

should  ever  have  followed  him.  s™"*' 

Mer.  And  you  as  little  thought  of  lying  in  his 
bed,  and  in  his  chamber  to  rest,  as  you  do  now, 

Chr.  And  much  less  did  I  ever  think  of 
seeing  his  face  with  c(j|Hifort,  and  of  worship- 
ping the  Lord  the  King  with  him ;  and  yet  now 
I  believe  I  shall. 

Mer.  Hark ;  don't  you  hear  a  noise  ? 

Chr.  Yes;  it  is,  as  I  believe,  a       M«sic. 
noise  of  music,  for  joy  that  we  are  here. 

Mer.  Wonderful!  music  in  the  house,  music 
in  the  heart,  and  music  also  in  heaven,  for  joy 
that  we  are  here  ! 


MERCY'S  DREA.Ar.  497 

Thus  they  talked  a  while,  and  theu  betook 
themselves  to  sleep. 

So  in  the  morning  when  they  were  awake, 
h^Sl"?"' Christiana  said  to  Mercy,  -'What 
was  the  matter,  that  you  did  lauuli  in  your  sleep 
to-night  ?     I  suppose  you  were  in  a  dream." 

^ri:i;.  So  I  was,  and  a  sweet  dream  it  was; 
but  are  you  sure  I  laughed  ? 

CiiR.  Yes,  you  laughed  heartily;  but  prithee, 
Mercy,  tell  me  thy  dream. 

Mer.  I  was  dreaming  that  I  sat  all  alone 
Mercys  dream,  in  a  soUtary  place,  and  was  bemoan- 
ing of  the  hardness  of  my  heart.  Xow  I  had 
not  set  there  long  but  methought  many  were 
gathered  about  me  to  see  me,  and  to  hear  what 
it  was  that  I  said.  So  they  hearkened,  and  I 
went  on  bemoaning  the  hardness  of  my  heart. 
At  this,  some  of  them  laughed  at  me,  some 
called  me  fool,  and  some  began  to  thrust  me 
about.  With  that,  methought  I  looked  up  and 
dr'^m \v£.'"*'^  ^  saw  one  coming  with  wings  towards 
me.  So  he  came  directly  to  me.  and  said, 
"Mercy,  what  aileth  thee  T'  Xow  when  he  had 
'heard  me  make  my  complaint,  he  said,  "Peace 
be  to  thee ;"  he  also  wiped  my  eyes  with  his 
handkerchief,  and  clad  me  in  silver  and  gold. 
Ezek.   1G:8-11.     He  put  a  chain  about  my 


498  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

neck,  and  ear-rings  in  my  ears,  and  a  beautiful 
crown  upon  my  head.  Then  he  took  me  by 
the  hand,  and  said,  "Mercy,  come  after  me." 
So  he  went  up,  and  I  followed  till  we  came  at 
a  golden  gate.  Then  he  knocked ;  and  when 
they  within  had  opened,  the  man  went  in,  and 
I  followed  him  up  to  a  throne,  upon  which  one 
sat;  and  he  said  to  me,  "Welcome,  daughter." 
The  place  looked  bright  and  twinkling  like  the 
stars,  or  rather  like  the  sun,  and  I  thought 
that  I  saw  your  husband  there;  so  I  awoke 
from  my  dream.     But  did  I  laugh  ? 

Chr.  Laugh  ?  aye,  and  well  you  might,  to 
see  yourself  so  well.  For  you  must  give  me 
leave  to  tell  you,  that  it  was  a  good  dream ; 
and  that,  as  you  have  begun  to  find  the  first 
part  true,  so  you  shall  find  the  second  at  last. 
"God  speaks  once,  yea,  twice,  yet  man  per- 
ceiveth  it  not;  in  a  dream,  in  a  vision  of  the 
night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon  men,  in 
slumberings  upon  he  bed."  Job  33  :  14,  15. 
We  need  not,  when  abed,  to  lie  awake  to  talk 
with  God ;  he  can  visit  us  while  we  sleep,  and 
cause  us  then  to  hear  his  voice.  Our  heart 
oftentimes  wakes  when  we  sleep,  and  God  can 
speak  to  that,  either  by  words,  by  proverbs,  by 
signs  and  similitudes,  as  well  as  if  one  was  awake. 


it 


TIIKY   REST   A    WHILE.  499 

^Ikr.  Well,  I  mil  glad  of  my  dream;  fur  I 
hor'dre^.S.'"'°Miope  oro  long  to  sec  it  fulfilled,  to 
the  making  me  laugh  again. 

CiiR.  I  think  it  is  now  high  time  to  rise, 
and  to  know  what  we  must  do. 

Mer.  Pray,  if  they  invite  us  to  stay  a  while, 
let  us  willingly  accept  of  the  proffer.  I  am 
the  more  willing  to  stay  a  while  here,  to  grow 
better  accjuainted  with  these  maids;  methinks 
Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity  have  very  come- 
ly and  sober  countenances. 

Chr.  We  shall  see  what  they  will  do. 

So  when  they  were  up  and  ready,  they 
came  down,  and  they  asked  one  another  of 
their  rest,  and  if  it  was  comfortable  or  not. 

"Very  good,"  said  Mercy;  "it  Avas  one  of 
the  best  night's  lodgings  that  ever  I  had  in  my 
life." 

Then  said  Prudence  and  Piety,  "If  you 
will  be  persuaded  to  stay  here  a  while,  you 
shall  have  what  the  houbc  will  afford." 

"Aye,  and  that  with  a  very  good  will," 
said  Charity.  So  they  consented,  and  stayed 
som'elime^'*'^'"^  thcrc  about  a  month  or  above,  and 
became  very  profitable  one  to  another.  And 
because  Prudence  would  see  how  Christiana 
had  brought  up  her  children,  she  asked  leave 


500  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

of  licr  to  catechize  tliera.    So  she  gave  her  free 
consent.     Then  she  began  with  the  sir^J^'to^^'cale- 

,1  T  chize      Christi- 

youngest,  whose  name  was  James,      anas  children. 

Prudence.  Come,  James,  canst  chi^i^'  *"''^" 
thon  tell  mc  who  made  thee  ? 

James.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and 
God  the  Holj  Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy.  And  canst  thou  tell  who 
saved  thee  ? 

James.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and 
God  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy  still.  But  how  doth  God 
the  Father  save  thee  ? 

James.  By  his  grace. 

Prud.  How  doth  God  the  Son  save  thee  ? 

jAivfES.  By  his  righteousness,  death  and 
blood,  and  life. 

Prud.  And  hoAV  doth  God  the  Holy  Ghost 
save  thee  ? 

James.  By  his  illumination,  b}^  his  renova- 
tion, and  by  his  preservation. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Christiana,  "You 
are  to  be  commended  for  thus  bringing  up 
your  children.  I  suppose  I  need  not  ask  the 
rest  these  questions,  since  the  j^oungest  of  them 
can  answer  them  so  well.  I  will  therefore  now 
apply  myself  to  the  next  youngest." 


TlIK  (IIII.DItEX   CATECIIIZKI).  nol 

Thou  Pi'udonre  said,  ''Conic  .loscph,"  for 
chuer'*  ""'"  his  name  was  Joseph,  "will  you  let 
me  catechize  you  ?' 

Jot^EPii.  AVith  all  my  heart. 
"Prudence.  AVliat  is  man  ? 

Joseph.  A  reasonable  creature,  so  made  ])y 
God,  as  my  l)rotlicr  said. 

Prud.  AVhat  is  supposed  hy  this  word, 
saved  ? 

Joseph.  That  man.  l>y  sin,  has  brought 
himself  into  a  state  of  captivity  and  misery. 

PiU'D.  What  is  supj)osed  by  his  being  saved 
by  the  Trinity  ? 

Joseph.  That  sin  is  so  great  and  mighty  a 
tyrant,  that  none  can  pull  us  out  of  its  clutches 
but  God:  and  that  God  is  so  good  and  loving 
to  man,  as  to  pull  him  indeed  out  of  this  mis- 
erable state. 

Prud.  What  is  God's  design  in  saving  poor 
men? 

Joseph.  The  glorifying  of  his  name,  of  his 
grace  and  justice,  etc.,  and  the  everlasting  hap- 
piness of  his  creature. 

Prud.  Who  are  they  that  will  be  saved? 

Joseph.  They  that  accept  of  his  salva- 
tion. 

Prud.  Good  boy,  Joseph  ;  thy  mother  hath 


502  PILCx RIM'S  PROGRESS. 

taught  tliee  well,  and  thou  hast  hearkened  unto 
what  she  has  said  unto  thee. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Samuel,  who  was 
the  eldest  but  one,  "Come,  Samuel,  J^^"^  ''''''■' 
are  you  willing  that  I  should  catechize  jou  ?" 

Samuel.  Yes,  forsooth,  if  you  }3lease. 

Prudence.  What  is  heaven  ? 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  blessed,  be- 
cause God  dwelleth  there. 

Prud.  What  is  hell  ? 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  woful,  because 
it  is  the  dwelling-place  of  sin,  the  devil,  and 
death. 

Prud.  Why  wonkiest  thou  go  to  heaven  ? 

Sam.  That  I  may  see  God,  and  serve  him 
without  weariness;  that  I  may  see  Christ,  and 
love  him  everlastingly ;  that  I  may  have  that 
fulness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  me  which  I  can 
by  no  means  here  enjoy. 

Prud.  A  ygyj  good  boy,  and  one  that  has 
learned  well. 

Then  she  addressed  herself  to  the  eldest, 
whose  name  was  Matthew;  and  she  chized''''' '"''" 
said  to  him,  "Come,  Matthew,  shall  I  also  cat- 
echize you  ?" 

Matthew.  With  a  very  good  will. 

Prudence.  T  ask,  then,  if  there  was  ever 


Tin:  rilll.IUJEN'  CATECin/.KD.  fjOri 

any  tliinu-  tli;it  liad  a  Ijoiiiq:  autoccdcnt  to  or 
Ijotoro  (i()(l  ? 

^Iatt.  Xo,  for  God  is  eternal ;  nor  is  lliere 
any  thinir,  exeeptinp^  liimself,  that  had  a  being 
nntil  tlie  Ijcginninij^  of  the  first  day.  For  in 
six  days  tlie  Lord  made  heaven  and  earth,  tlie 
sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is. 

Prud.  Wliat  do  yon  think  of  the  Bible  ? 

Matt.  It  is  th^  holy  word  of  God. 

Prud.  Is  there  nothing  written  therein  but 
what  you  understand  ? 

Matt.  Yes,  a  great  deal. 

Piiui).  AVliat  do  you  do  when  you  meet 
with  })laces  therein  that  you  do  not  under- 
stand ? 

Matt.  I  think  God  is  wiser  than  I.  I  pray 
also  that  he  will  i)lease  to  let  me  know  all 
therein  that  he  knows  will  be  for  my  good. 

Pri'I).  How  believe  you  as  touehing  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead  ? 

^Iatt.  I  believe  they  shall  rise  the  same 
that  was  buried ;  the  same  in  nature,  though 
not  in  corruption.  And  I  believe  this  upon  a 
double  account:  first,  because  God  has  prom- 
ised it;  secondly,  because  he  is  able  to  per- 
form it. 

Then  .'^aid    Prudence   to  the   bovs,    "You 


504  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

must  still  hearken  to  your  mother ;  for  she  can 
teach  you  more.  You  must  also  clil-  conchi^rolfuro'n 
igently  give  ear  to  what  good  talk  onhe'^boys.^'"^ 
you  shall  hear  from  others ;  for  your  sakes  do 
they  speak  good  things.  Observe  also,  and 
that  with  carefulness,  what  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  do  teach  you ;  but  especially  be  much 
in  the  meditation  of  that  book  which  was  the 
cause  of  your  father's  beconflng  a  pilgrim.  I, 
for  my  part,  my  children,  will  teach  you  what 
I  can  while  you  are  here,  and  shall  be  glad  if 
you  will  ask  me  questions  that  tend  to  godly 
edifying." 

Now  by  that  these  pilgrims  had  been  at 
this  place  a  week,  Mercy  had  a  visitor  that 
pretended  some  good-will  unto  her,  and  his 
name  was  Mr.  Brisk,  a  man  of  some  s^vSJart.'"  * 
breeding,  and  that  pretended  to  religion,  but  a 
man  that  stuck  very  close  to  the  world.  So  he 
came  once  or  twice,  or  more,  to  Mercy,  and 
offered  love  unto  her.  Now  Mercy  was  of  a 
fair  countenance,  and  therefore  the  more  allur- 
ing. 

Her  mind  also  was  to  be  always  busying  of 
herself  in  doing ;  for  when  she  had  nothing  to 
do  for  herself,  she  would  be  making  hose  and 
garments  for  others,  and  would  bestow  them 


M  !•  l\  C  Y  ■  S   S  W  E  E  T  ]  1  K  A  1 :  T .  r,li.", 

Upon  th(i-^o  lliat  had  need.  And  Mi-,  lii-isk  not 
kn(twiim-  wlicrc  oi-  Ikiw  she  dis])osed  of  Avluit 
she  made,  seemed  to  be  greatly  taken,  for  that 
he  ibund  her  never  idle.  I  will  warrant  her  a 
good  housewife.  (|Uoth  he  to  himself. 

Merev  then  revealed  the  business  to  the 
maidens  that  were  of  the  house,  and  intjuired 
of'Ti;o'"S  of  tli^"^  concerning  him,  for  they  did 
wiiccmmg  Mr.  |,j-^q^^,  j^jj^^  bcttcr  tliau  slic.     So  they 

told  her  that  he  was  a  very  busy  young  man, 
and  one  who  ])retended  to  religion,  but  was,  as 
the}'  feared,  a  stranger  to  the  power  of  that 
which  is  good. 

'"Xay  then,""  said  Mercy,  "I  will  look  no 
more  on  him;  for  I  purpose  never  to  have  a 
clog  to  my  soul.'- 

Prudence  then  replied,  that  there  needed 
no  matter  of  great  discouragement  to  be  given 
to  him ;  her  continuing  so  as  she  had  begun  to 
do  for  the  poor  would  (piickly  cool  his  cour- 
age. 

So  the  next  time  he  comes  he  finds  her  at 
Talk  between  hcr  old  woi'k,  making  thincrs  for  the 

Mercy  and  Mr.  '^  "" 

Brisk.  poop     Then  said  he, 'What,  always 

at  it?''  "Yes,"'  said  she,  "either  for  myself  or 
for  others."  "And  Avhat  canst  thou  earn  a 
day?"  said  he.     "I  do  these  things,"'  saiU  she, 

Til  Pp.?.  22 


"that  I  may  be  rich  in  good  works,  laying  up 
in  store  for  myself  a  good  foundation  against 
the  time  to  come,  that  I  may  lay  hold  on  eter- 
nal life."  1  Tim.  6:17-19.  -'Why,  priihcc, 
what  doest  thou  with  them?"  said  he.  ''Clothe 
tile  naked,"'  said  she.  With  that  his  counte- 
nance fell.  So  he  forbore  to  come  hS^IZhy^^ 
at  her  again.  And  when  he  was  asked  the 
reason  why,  he  said  that  Mercy  was  a  pretty 
lass,  but  troubled  with  ill  conditions. 

When  he  had  left  her.  Prudence  said,  "Did 
I  not  tell  thee  that  Mr.  Brisk  would  soon  for- 
sake thee  ?  yea,  he  will  raise  up  an  ill  report 
of  thee ;  for,  notwithstandino;  his  pre-    Mercy  in  the 

,'  CD  X  practice  of  mer- 

tence  to  religion,  and  his  seeming  ^4iil  Iiercytn 
love  to  Mercy,  yet  Mercy  and  he  mercy  is  nked. 
are  of  tempers  so  different  that  I  believe  they 
Avill  never  come  together." 

Mer.  I  might  have  had  husbands  before 
now,  though  I  spoke  not  of  it  to  any ;  but  they 
were  such  as  did  not  like  my  conditions,  though 
never  did  any  of  them  find  fault  with  my  per- 
son.    So  they  and  I  could  not  agree. 

Prud.  Mercy  in  our  days  is  but  little  set 
by  any  further  than  as  to  its  name:  the  prac- 
tice which  is  set  forth  by  thy  conditions,  there 
are  but  few  that  can  abide. 


MATTHEW    IS  HICK.  ',()' 

"Well,"'  said  ^rcrcy.  '"if  iiolxxly  will  liavc 
iu?'oT^*  ■"''""  inc.  I  will  (lie  uiuiiarrit'd.  or  my  cou- 
ditioiis  shall  1)0  to  lue  as  a  husband,  lor  1  can- 
not chantro  my  nature :  and  to  have  one  who 
lies  cross  to  me  in  this,  that  I  purpose  never 
Jt!.rwal"eJv'  to  admit  of  as  lonir  as  I  live.  I  had 
blnl'i  '""■" ''"'  a  sister  named  Bountiful  that  w^as 
married  to  one  of  these  churls,  l)ut  he  and  she 
could  never  agree :  but  because  my  sister  was 
resolved  to  do  as  she  had  beirun,  that  is,  to 
show^  kindness  to  the  ])0or,  therefore  her  hus- 
band first  cried  her  down  at  the  cross,  and 
then  turned  her  out  of  his  doors."' 

Prud.  And  yet  he  was  a  professor,  I  Avar- 
rant  you. 

Mku.  Yes.  such  a  one  as  he  was.  and  of 
such  as  he  the  world  is  now  full:  but  I  am  for 
none  of  them  all. 

Xow  ^fatthew.  the  eldest  son  of  Christiana, 
j^uttiiew  foils  f^ii  ^j^.|.   .^jj^i  |,j^  sickness  was  sore 

upon  him.  for  he  was  much  ])ained  in  his  ])ow- 
els,  so  that  he  was  with  it  at  times  ])ulled  as  it 
were  both  ends  tofrether.  There  dwelt  also 
not  far  from  thence  one  Mr.  Skill,  an  ancient 
and  well-approved  ])hysician.  So  Christiana 
desired  it,  and  they  sent  f(tr  him.  and  he  came. 
When   he   was  entered    the   room,   and   had    a 


508  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

little  observed  the  boy,  he  concluded  that  he 
was  sick  of  the  gripes.  Then  he  said  sck-nJe':'''^*"'"" 
to  his  mother,  "What  diet  has  Matthew  of  late 
fed  upon?"  "Diet?"  said  Christiana,  "noth- 
ing but  what  is  wholesome."  The  physician 
answered,  "This  boy  has  been  tam- /lilJ^S'"'"' 
pering  with  something  that  lies  in  his  stomach 
undigested,  and  that  will  not  away  without 
means.  AndT  tell  you  he  must  be  purged,  or 
else  he  will  die." 

Then  said  Samuel,  "Mother,  what  was  that 
which  my  brother  did  gather  up  and  n^Xr\rmind 

,  «  of  the  fruit  his 

eat  as  soon  as  we  were  come  irom  brother  did  eat. 
the  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  this  way  ?  You 
know  that  there  was  an  orchard  on  the  left 
hand,  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  and  some 
of  the  trees  hung  over  the  wall,  and  my  broth- 
er did  pluck  and  eat." 

"True,  my  child,"  said  Christiana,  "he  did 
take  thereof,  and  did  eat:  naughty  boy  as  he 
was,  I  chid  him,  and  yet  he  would  eat  thereof." 

Skill.  I  knew  he  had  eaten  something  that 
was  not  wholesome  food;  and  that  food,  to  wit, 
that  fruit,  is  even  the  most  hurtful  of  all.  It 
is  the  fruit  of  Beelzebub's  orchard.  I  do  mar- 
vel that  none  did  warn  you  of  it;  many  have 
died  thereof. 


Then  Christiaiui  began  to  cry  ;  and  she  said, 
'Oil.  naniility  boyi  and  Oh,  careless  mother! 
what  shall  1  do  lor  my  son  ?" 

Skill.  Come,  do  not  be  too  much  dejected; 
the  boy  may  do  well  again,  but  he  must  purge 
and  vomit. 

TnK.  Pray,  sir,  try  the  utmost  of  your  skill 
with  liiin.  whatever  it  costs. 

Skill.  Xay.  I  hope  I  shall  be  reasonable. 

So  he  made  him  a  purge,  but  it  was  too 
weak ;  it  was  said  it  was  made  of  the  blood  of 
a  goat,  the  ashes  of  a  heifer,  and  some  of  the 
juice  of  hyssop.  Heb.  9:13,  19;  10:1-4. 
When  Mr.  Skill  had  seen  that  that  purge  was 
too  weak,  he  made  one  to  the  purpose.  It  was 
boTrow.^^*""  ^  made  e.v  came  et  sanguine  Christ i,'-^ 
John  6  :  54-57  ;  Heb.  9:14;  (you  know  physi- 
cians give  strange  medicines  to  their  patients:) 
and  it  was  made  into  pills,  with  a  promise  or 
two,  and  a  proportionate  quantity  of  salt.  Mark 
9  :  49.  Now,  he  was  to  take  them  three  at  a 
time,  fasting,  in  half  a  quarter  of  a  i)int  of  the 
tears  of  repentance.  Zech.  12  :  10. 
The  boy  loath        AVhcu  thls  potlou  was  prepared, 

to  take  the  phy- 

«"=  and  brought  to  the  boy,  he  was  loath 

to  take  it.  though  torn  with  the  gripes  as  if  he 

♦  Of  tlie  flesh  mid  blood  of  Christ. 


510  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS. 

should  be  pulled  in  pieces.  "Come,  come," 
said  the  physician,  '"you  must  take  it/"  "It 
goes  against  my  stomach,"  said  the  boy.  "I 
must  have  you  take  it,"  said  his  mother.  "I 
shall  vomit  it  up  again,"  said  the  boy.  "Pray 
sir,"  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Skill,  "how  does  it 
taste?"  "It  has  no  ill  taste,"  said  the  doctor; 
and  with  that  she  touched  one  of  the    ihc    mother 

tastes     it,     and 

pills  with  the  tip  of  her  tongue.  ' '  Oh,  persuades  him. 
Matthew,"  said  she,  "this  potion  is  sweeter 
than  honey.  If  thou  lovest  thy  mother,  if  thou 
lovest  thy  brothers,  if  thou  lovest  Mercy,  if 
thou  lovest  thy  life,  take  it."  So,  with  much 
ado,  after  a  short  })rayer  for  the  blessing  of 
God  upon  it,  he  took  it,  and  it  wrought  kindly 
with  him.  It  caused  him  to  purge ;  it  caused 
him  to  sleep,  and  to  rest  quietly;  it  put  him 
into  a  tine  heat  and  breathing  sweat,  and  did 
quite  rid  him  of  his  gripes.  So  in  a  little  time 
he  got  up  and  walked  about  with  a  Awordofood 

in   the  hand  of 

staff,   and  would  go  from  room  to  ^^"•^ 
room  and  talk  with  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Char- 
ity, of  his  distemper,  and  how  he  was  healed. 

So  when  the  boy  was  healed,  Christiana 
asked  Mr.  Skill,  saying,  "Sir,  what  will  con- 
tent you  for  your  pains  and  care  to  and  of  my 
child?"      And  he  said,   "You  must  pay  the 


A    LNlVKKr^Al.   IIK.MKDV.  ."^ll 

Master  of  the  College  of  Physicians.  Heh. 
lo:  11-15,  according  to  i-ulcs  made  in  that 
case  and  provided." 

'•But,  sir."  saifl  Christiana,  "what  is  tliis 
])ill  good  for  else  ?" 

Skill.  It  is  a  universal  pill:  it  is  good 
vcr-ui'remJ"'  agalust  all  tlic  dlscascs  that  pilgrims 
are  incident  to:  and  when  it  is  well  prepared, 
it  will  keep  good  time  out  of  mind. 

Cnn.  Pray,  sir.  make  me  up  twelve  boxes 
of  them:  for  if  I  can  get  these,  I  will  never 
take  other  physic. 

Skill.  These  pills  are  good  to  prevent  dis- 
eases, as  well  as  to  cure  when  one  is  sick. 
Yea.  I  dare  say  it,  and  stand  to  it,  that  if  a 
man  will  but  use  this  physic  as  he  should,  it 
will  make  him  live  for  ever.  John  G  :  51.  But, 
good  Christiana,  thou  nuist  give  these  })ills  no 
other  way  but  as  I  have  prescribed ;  for  if  you 
do.  they  will  do  no  good. 

So  he  gave  unto  Christiana  physic  for  her- 
self and  her  boys,  and  for  Mercy:  and  bid 
Matthew  take  heed  how  he  ate  any  more  green 
plums;  and  kissed  them,  and  went  his  way. 

It  was  told  you  before,  that  Prudence  bid 
the  ljoy<;.  that  if  at  any  tiiue  they  would,  tliey 
should  ask  her  some  questions  that  might  be 


512  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

profitable,   and  she  would   say  something  to 
them. 

Then  Matthew,  who  had  been  sick,  asked 
her  why  for  the  most  part  physic     or  physic. 
should  be  bitter  to  our  palates. 

Prud.  To  show  how  unwelcome  the  word 
of  God  and  the  effects  thereof  are  to  a  carnal 
heart. 

Matt.  Why  does  physic,  if  it  does  good, 
purge,  and  cause  to  vomit  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  the  word,  when  it 
works  effectually,  cleanseth  the  heart  and  mind. 
For  look,  what  the  one  doth  to  the  body,  the 
other  doth  to  the  soul. 

Matt.  What  should  we  learn  by  seeing  the 
flame  of  our  Are  go  upwards,  and  by  tuesur'"''^"' 
seeing  the  beams  and  sweet  influences  of  the 
sun  strike  downwards  ? 

Prud.  By  the  going  up  of  the  lire,  we  arc 
taught  to  ascend  to  heaven  by  fervent  and  hot 
desires.  And  by  the  sun  sending  his  heat, 
beams,  and  sweet  influences  downwards,  we  are 
taught  that  the  Saviour  of.  the  world,  though 
high,  reaches  down  with  his  grace  and  love  to 
us  below. 

Matt.  Whence  have  the  clouds  ortheciouds. 
their  water? 


PROFITABLE  DISCOURSE.  513 

Prud.  Out  of  the  sea. 

Matt.  What  may  we  learn  from  that? 

Prud.  Tliat  ministers  slionld  fetch  their 
iloctrinc  from  God. 

^Iatt.  AVhy  do  they  enii)ty  themselves  upon 
the  earth  ? 

Prud,  To  show  that  ministers  should  give 
out  what  they  know  of  God  to  the  world. 

Matt.  Why  is  the  rainbow  caused  by  the 

Of  the  rainbow.    SUU  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  the  covenant  of  God's 
grace  is  confirmed  to  us  in  Christ. 

Matt.  Why  do  the  springs  come  from  the 
Of  the  springs,  sca  to  US  tlirougli  tlic  carth  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  the  grace  of  God  comes 
to  us  through  the  body  of  Christ. 

;Matt.  Why  do  some  of  the  springs  rise 
out  of  the  tops  of  high  hills  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  the  Spirit  of  grace 
shall  s])ring  up  in  some  that  are  great  and 
mighty,  as  well  as  in  many  that  are  poor  and 
low. 

Matt.  Why  doth  the  fire  fasten  upon  the 

Of  the  candle.  candlC-wick  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  unless  grace  doth  kin- 
dle upon  the  heart,  there  will  be  no  true  light 
of  life  in  us. 

.70* 


514  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS. 

Matt.  Why  are  the  wick  and  tallow,  and 
all,  spent  to  maintain  the  light  of  the  candle  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  body  and  sonl,  and  all, 
should  be  at  the  service  of,  and  spend  them- 
selves to  maintain  in  good  condition  that  grace 
of  God  that  is  in  us. 

Matt.  Why  doth  the  pelican  pierce  otthe  pelican. 
her  own  breast  with  her  bill  ? 

Prud.  To  nourish  her  young  ones  with  her 
blood,  and  thereby  to.  show  that  Christ  the 
blessed  so  loved  his  young,  (his  people,)  as  to 
save  them  from  death  by  his  blood. 

Matt.  What  may  one  learn  by    of  the  cock. 
hearing  the  cock  to  crow  ? 

Prud.  Learn  to  remember  Peter's  sin,  and 
Peter's  repentance.  The  cock's  crowing  shows 
also,  that  day  is  coming  on:  Jet  then  the  crow- 
ing of  the  cock  put  thee  in  mind  of  that  last 
and  terrible  day  of  judgment. 

Now  about  this  time  their  month  was  out; 
wherefore  they  signified  to  those  of  the  house, 
that  it  was  convenient  for  them  to  up  and  be 
going.  Then  said  Joseph  to  his  mother,  "It  is 
proper  that  you  forget  not  to  send  , J^- fmes'^ '^ai^ 
to  the  house  of  Mr.  Interpreter,  to  prayers.""" 
pray  him  to  grant  that  Mr.  Great-heart  should 
be  sent  unto  us,  that  he  may  be  our  conductor 


E\¥:fi   APl'LE.  ;>lo 

for  the  rest  ot  tlio  way."  "Good  boy,"'  said 
she;  "T  had  almost  forgot."  So  she  drew  up  a 
petition,  and  prayed  ^Ir.  "U'atchful  the  porter 
to  send  it  by  some  lit  man  to  her  good  friend 
Mr.  Interpreter:  who,  when  it  was  come,  and 
he  had  seen  the  contents  of  the  petition,  said 
to  the  messenger,  "Go,  tell  them  that  I  will 
send  him." 

When    the    family    where    Christiana    was 
They  provide  saw  that  thc}'  had  a  purpose  to  go 

to  be  gone   on 

their  way.  forward,  they  called  the  whole  house 
together,  to  give  thanks  to  their  King  for  send- 
ing of  them  such  profitable  guests  as  these. 
"Which  done,  they  said  unto  Christiana,  "And 
shall  w^e  not  .^how  thee  something,  as  our  cus- 
tom is  to  do  to  pilgrims,  on  which  thou  may  est 
meditate  when  thou  art  upon  the  way?"  So 
they  took  Christiana,  her  children,  and  ^lorcy. 
into  the  closet,  and  showed  them  one  of  the 
Eves  apple,  applcs  that  Eve  ate  of.  and  that  she 
also  did  give  to  her  husband,  and  that  for  the 
eating  of  which  they  were  both  turned  out  of 
paradise,  and  asked  her  what  she  thought  that 
was.  Then  Christiana  said,  "It  is  food  or  poi- 
son, I  know  not  which."  So  they  opened  the 
isarailinf ''"  matter  to  her.  and  she  held  up  her 
hand.-  and  wondered.     (Jen.  3:6;  Rom.  7    24. 


516  PILGRIM'S  PllOGrvESS. 

Then  they  had  her  to  a  place,  and  showed 
her  Jacob's  ladder.  Gen.  28:12.  Jacobs laiidcr. 
Xow  at  that  time  there  Avere  some  angels  as- 
cending upon  it.  So  Christiana  looked  and 
looked  to  see  the  angels  go  np :  so  did  the  rest 
of  the  company.  Then  they  were  going  into 
another  place,  to  show  them  something  else; 
but  James  said  to  his  mother,  "Pray,  bid  them 
stay  here  a  little  longer,  for  this  is  a  curious 
sight."  So  they  turned  again,  and  ^^ifkilig'''""' 
stood  feeding  their  eyes  with  this  so  pleasant 
a  prospect. 

After  this,  they  had  them  into  a  place  where 
did  hang  up  a  golden  anchor.  So  elo?  ^°'''"  '"' 
they  bid  Christiana  take  it  down ;  for  said  they, 
"You  shall  have  it  with  you,  for  it  is  of  abso- 
lute necessity  that  you  should,  that  j^ou  may 
lay  hold  of  that  within  the  veil,  Heb.  6:19, 
and  stand  steadfast  in  case  you  should  meet 
with  turbulent  weather,"  Joel  3:16;  so  they 
were  glad  thereof. 

Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to  the 
mount  upon  which  Abraham  our  fa-  feringujifaaa 
ther  offered  up  Isaac  his  son,  and  showed  them 
the  altar,  the  wood,  the  fire,  and  the  knife,  for 
they  remain  to  be  seen  to  this  very  day.  Gen. 
22  :9.     When  they  had  seen  it,  they  held  up 


Mil.   cm:  AT- HE  ART  liEtUKXS.  517 

tlicir  liamls.  aiul  blessed  themselves,  and  said, 
"Oh.  ^vliat  a  man  for  love  to  his  Master,  and 
for  (l(Miial  to  himself,  was  .Vbraham!'' 

After  they  had  showed  them  all  these  thinjis, 
Prudence  took  them  into  a  dining-room,  where 
j^urtcnccsvir-  g^^^^^j  .^  ^^.^j^.  ^^j-  excellent  virginals ;=•= 

so  she  played  upon  them,  and  turned  what  she 
had  showed  them  into  this  excellent  song,  say- 


" Eve's  apple  we  have  showed  you; 

Of  that  be  you  aware : 
You  have  seeu  Jacob's  ladder  too, 

Upon  which  angels  are. 
An  anchor  you  received  have ; 

But  let  not  these  suffice, 
Until  with  Abraham  you  give 

Your  best  a  sacrifice." 

Now,  about  this  time  one  knocked  at  the 
Jomfsaganr^'  door ;  SO  tlic  portcr  oi)ened,  and  be- 
hold, Mr.  Great-heart  was  there.  But  when 
he  was  come  in.  what  joy  was  there!  for  it 
came  now  afresh  again  into  their  minds,  lutw 
Ijut  a  while  ago  he  had  slain  old  Grim  Bloody- 
man  the  giant,  and  had  delivered  them  from 
the  lions. 

Then  said  ^Fr.  Great-heart  to  Christiana  and 
He  brinRs  a  to  ^Fcrcv,  " Mv  Lord  has  sent  each 

token  from  his 

Lord  with  him.  Qf  yQ^  ^  bottle  of  winc,  and  also 

*  A  musical  instrument. 


^')18  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS. 

some  parched  corn,  together  with  a  couple  of 
pomegranates ;  he  has  also  sent  the  boys  some 
figs  and  raisins ;  to  refresh  you  in  your  way." 

Then  they  addressed  themselves  to  their 
journey,  and  Prudence  and'  Piety  went  along 
with  them.  When  they  came  to  the  gate,  Chris- 
tiana asked  the  porter  if  any  of  late  Avent  by. 
He  said,  "No  ;  only  one,  some  time  since,  who 
also  told  me,  that  of  late  there  had  been  a 
great  robbery  committed  on  the  King's  high- 
way as  you  go.  But,"  said  he,  "the  thieves  are 
taken,  and  will  shortly  be  tried  for  their  lives." 
Then  Christiana  and  Mercy  Avere  afraid;  but 
Matthew  said,  "Mother,  fear  nothing,  as  long 
as  Mr.  Great-heart  is  to  go  with  us,  and  to  be 
our  conductor." 

Then  said  Christiana  to  the  porter,  "Sir,  I 
am  much  obliged  to  you  for  all  the       Christiana 

takes  her  leave 

kindnesses  that  you  have  showed  to  of  the  porter. 
me  since  I  came  hither ;  and  also  for  that  you 
have  been  so  loving  and  kind  to  my  children. 
I  know  not  how  to  gratify  your  kindness; 
wherefore,  pray,  as  a  token  of  my  respect  to 
you,  accept  of  this  small  mite."  So  she  put  a 
gold  angeP^  in  his  hand ;  and  he  made  her  a  low 

*  A  gold  angel  was  a  coin  of  the  value  of  ten  shillings 
sferlinx.  and  according  to  the  comparative  value  of  money  in 
Banyan's  time,  equal  at  least  to  a  guinea  at  the  present  time. 


TiiK  roHTEirs  i5i,i:.<siN(;.  oio 

olx'isaiieo.  and  said.  "  Let  thy  tianiioiits  Itc  al- 
bJJSfng'""""'"'  ^vays  white;  and  h-t  tliy  liead  want 
no  ointment."  Keel.  I)  :  8.  -Let  Mercy  live 
and  not  die.  and  let  not  her  works  be  few.*' 
Deut.  33:(j.  And  to  th(>  boys  he  said.  "Do 
you  fly  youthfnl  Insts,  and  follow  after  godli- 
ness with  them  that  are  grave  and  wise,  2  Tim. 
2:22:  .-^0  shall  you  put  gladness  into  yonr 
mother's  heart,  and  obtain  praise  of  all  that 
are  sober-minded."  So  they  thanked  the  por- 
ter  and  departed. 


520  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


THE  FIFTH  STAGE. 

IvTow  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went 
forward  nntil  they  were  come  to  the  brow  of 
the  hill ;  where  Piety,  bethinking  herself,  cried 
out,  "Alas,  I  have  forgot  what  I  intended  to 
bestow  upon  Christiana  and  her  companions :  I 
will  go  back  and  fetch  it."  So  she  ran  and 
fetched  it.  While  she  was  gone,  Christiana 
thought  she  heard,  in  a  grove  a  little  way  off 
on  the  right  hand,  a  most  curious  melodious 
note,  with  words  much  like  these : 

"  Through  all  my  life  thy  favor  is 
So  frankly  showed  to  me, 
That  in  thy  house  for  evermore 
My  dwelling-place  shall  be." 

And  listening  still,  she  thought  she  heard 
another  answer  it,  saying, 

"  For  why  ?    The  Lord  our  God  is  good  ; 
His  mercy  is  for  ever  sure  ; 
His  truth  at  all  times  firmly  stood, 
And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure." 

So  Christiana  asked  Prudence  who  it  was 
fhat  made  those  curious  notes.  Song  2:11,12. 
"They  are,"  answered  she,  "our  country  birds: 
they  sing  these  notes  but  seldom,  except  it  be 
at  the  spring,  when  the  flowers  appear,  and 


VALLEY  OF   II  r  >[  I  LI  ATIOX  .  521 

the  sun  shines  warm,  and  then  you  may  hear 
them  all  day  long.  I  often,''  said  she,  "go 
out  to  hear  them ;  we  also  ofttimes  keep  them 
tame  in  our  house.  They  are  very  line  com- 
pany for  us  when  we  are  melancholy;  also 
they  make  the  woods  and  groves  and  solitary 
places,  places  desirable  to  be  in.' 

By  this  time  Piety  was  come  again.  So 
etr'soiSng  ^^^c  said  to  Christiana,  ''Look  here; 
oiyhematpart-  j  j^^^,^  brought  thcc  a  schcmc  of  all 

those  things  that  thou  hast  seen  at  our  house, 
upon  which  thou  mayest  look  when  thou  find- 
est  thyself  forgetful,  and  call  those  things  again 
to  remembrance  for  thy  edification  and  com- 
fort."' 

Xow  they  began  to  go  down  the  hill  into 
the  valley  of  Humiliation.  It  was  a  steep  hill, 
and  the  way  was  slippery ;  but  they  were  very 
careful ;  so  they  got  down  pretty  well.  AVhen 
they  were  down  in  the  valley,  Piety  said  to 
Christiana,  '"This  is  the  place  where  Christian, 
your  husband,  met  with  the  foul  fiend  Apol- 
'lyon,  and  where  they  had  that  dreadful  fight 
that  they  had:  I  know  you  cannot  but  have 
heard  thereof.  But  be  of  good  courage;  as 
long  as  you  have  here  Mr.  Great-heart  to  be 
your  guide  and  conductor,  we  hope  you  will 


522  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

fare  the  better."  So  when  these  two  had  com- 
mitted the  pilgrims  unto  the  conduct  of  their 
guide,  he  went  forward,  and  they  went  after. 

Then  said  Mr.  G-reat-heart,  "We  need  not 
be  so  afraid  of  this  valley,  for  here  ^ea/t  ^t  ti^e^^ai^ 

,  T   .  /       1  i  1  ley  of  Humilia- 

is  nothing  to  hurt  us,  unless  we  pro-  tion. 
cure  it  to  ourselves.  It  is  true  Christian  did 
here  meet  with  Apollyon,  with  whom  he  also 
had  a  sore  combat:  but  that  fray  was  the  fruit 
of  those  slips  which  he  got  in  his  going  down 
the  hill;  for  they  that  get  slips  there,  must 
look  for  combats  here.  And  hence  it  is,  that 
this  valley  has  got  so  hard  a  name.  For  the 
common  people,  when  they  hear  that  some 
frightful  thing  has  befallen  such  a  one  in  such 
a  place,  are  of  opinion  that  that  place  is  haunted 
with  some  foul  fiend  or  evil  spirit ;  when,  alas, 
it  is  for  the  fruit  of  their  own  doing  xue  reason 
that  such  things  do  befall  them  there,  w^s  so  beset  m 

~  the     valley    of 

This  valley  of  Humiliation  is  of  it-  H"™'1'=^"°» 
self  as  fruitful  a  place  as  any  the  crow  flies 
over:  and  I  am  persuaded,  if  we  could  hit  upon 
it,  we  might  find  somewhere  hereabouts  some- 
thing that  might  give  us  an  account  ^vliy  Chris- 
tian was  so  hardly  beset  in  this  place."'  ' 
Then  said  James  to  his  mother,  "Lo,  yon- 
der stands  a  pillar,  and  it  looks  as  if  something 


Till-:  V  A  Li.KY  FitiiTFrL.  '>-i:] 

was  written  thereon  :  let  us  a'o  and  see  what  it 

!?.''     So  they  went,  and  found   tliere  written. 

A  pillar  with  "Let  Christian's  slips  before  he  eanie 

an      inscription 

upon  it.  hither,  and  the  battles  that  he  met 

with  in  this  place,  bo  a  warning  to  those  that 
come  after."  "Lo,"  said  their  guide,  '"did  not 
I  tell  you  tlrat  there  w^as  something  hereabouts 
that  would  give  intimation  of  the  reason  why 
Christian  was  so  hard  beset  in  this  place  ?"' 
Then  turning  himself  to  Christiana,  he  said, 
"Xo  disparagement  to  Christian  more  than  to 
any  others  whose  hap  and  lot  it  was.  For  it 
is  easier  going  up  than  down  this  hill,  and  that 
can  be  said  but  of  few  hills  in  all  these  parts 
of  the  world.  But  we  will  leave  the  good 
man ;  he  is  at  rest :  he  also  had  a  brave  vic- 
tory over  his  enemy.  Let  Ilim  grant,  that 
dwelleth  above,  that  we  fare  no  worse,  when 
we  come  to  be  tried,  than  he. 

"But  wx  will  come  again  to  this  valley  of 
brlveyac!'^  *  Ilumiliatlon.  it  is  the  best  and  most 
fruitful  piece  of  ground  in  all  these  parts.  It 
is  fat  ground,  and  as  you  see,  consisteth  nuich 
in  meadows ;  and  if  a  man  was  to  come  here 
in  the  summer-time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he  knew 
not  any  thing  before  thereof,  and  if  he  also 
delighted  iiimself  in   the  sight  of  his  eves,  he 


524  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

might  see  that  which  would  be  delightful  to 
him.  Behold  how  green  this  valley  is ;  also 
how  beautiful  with  lilies.  Song  2:1.  I  have 
known  many  laboring  men  that  have  got  good 
estates  in  this  valley  of  Humiliation ;  for  God 
resisteth  the  proud,  but  giveth  grace    Men  thrive  in 

"  ^  tlie     valley    of 

to  the  humble.  James  4  :  G  ;  1  Pet.  humiliation. 
5  : 5.  Indeed,  it  is  a  very  fruitful  soil,  and 
doth  bring  forth  by  handfuls.  Some  also  have 
wished  that  the  next  way  to  their  Father's 
house  w^ere  here,  that  they  might  be  troubled 
no  more  with  either  hills  or  mountains  to  go 
over ;  but  the  way  is  the  way,  and  there  is  an 
end." 

Now,  as  they  were  going  along  and  talking, 
they  espied  a  boy  feeding  his  father's  sheep. 
The  boy  was  in  veiy  mean  clothes,  but  of  a 
fresh  and  Avell-favored  countenance  ;  and  as  he 
sat  by  himself,  he  sung.  "Hark,"  said  Mr. 
Great-heart,  "to  what  the  shepherd's  bovsaith," 
So  they  hearkened,  and  he  said, 

"  He  that  is  down,  needs  fear  no  fall ; 
He  that  is  low,  no  pride : 
He  that  is  humble,  ever  shall 
Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 

"  I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 
Little  be  it  or  much  ; 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  T  cravp, 
Because  thou  savcst  sucli. 


A   PLKA.^AXT   VALLEY.  525 

"Fulness  to  sucli  a  l)mdeii  is, 
That  f;o  on  pilgrimai^o  ; 
Here  little,  ami  hereafter  bliss, 
Ls  best  from  age  to  age." 

Then  said  the  guide,  "Do  you  liear  him? 
I  Avill  dare  to  say  this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life, 
and  wears  more  of  that  herb  called  heart's-ease 
in  his  bosom,  than  he  that  is  clad  in  silk  and 
velvet.     But  we  will  j)roeeed  in  our  discourse. 

"In  this  valley  our  Lord  formerly  had  his 

Christ,    when  COUUt rV-llOUSC  :    ]\C  loVcd  lUUcll  tO  bC 
In  the  flesh,  liad 

house  T"n^  licre.  lie  loved  also  to  walk  these 
miiiation.  mcadows,  foi*  he  found  the  air  was 
pleasant.  Besides,  here  a  man  shall  be  free 
from  the  noise,  and  fi-om  the  liiu'ryiims  of  this 
life  :  all  states  are  full  of  noise  and  confusion; 
only  the  valley  of  Humiliation  is  that  empty  and 
solitary  jtlace.  Here  a  man  shall  not  be  so  let 
dUd  hindered  in  his  coutemi)lation,  as  in  other 
places  he  is  apt  to  be.  This  is  a  valley  that 
nobody  walks  iu  but  those  that  love  a  pilLi'rim'.s 
life.  And  though  Christian  had  the  hard  hap 
to  meet  here  with  A])ollyon,  and  to  enter  with 
him  ill  a  brisk  encounter,  yet  I  must  tell  you 
that  in  Ibrmer  times  men  have  met  Avith  angels 
here,  IIos.  12:4,  5,  have  found  pearls  here, 
Matt.  13  :  4G,  and  have  iu  this  place  found  the 
words  of  life,  Prov.  8  :  35. 


.  52G  riLGRI.M'S  PROHRESS. 

"Did  I  say  our  Lord  had  here  in  former 
days  his  country-house,  and  that  he  loved  here 
to  walk?  I  will  add,  that  in  this  i)lace,  and  to 
the  people  that  love  and  trace  these  grounds, 
he  has  left  a  A^early  revenue,  to  be  faithfully 
paid  them  at  certain  seasons,  for  their  mainte- 
nance by  the  way,  and  for  their  further  encour- 
agement to  go  on  in  their  pilgrimage." 

Now,  as  they  went  on,  Samuel  said  to  Mr. 
Great-heart,  ' '  Sir,  I  perceive  that  in  this  val- 
ley my  father  and  Apollyon  had  their  battle; 
but  whereabout  was  the  fight?  for  I  perceive 
this  valley  is  large."' 

Great.  Your  father  had  the  battle  with 
Apollyon  at  a  place  yonder  before  us,  in  a 
narrow  passage,  just  beyond  Forget-  green ^°''^'"""' 
ful  green.  And  indeed  that  place  is  the  most 
dangerous  place  in  all  these  parts.  For  if  at 
any  time  pilgrims  meet  with  any  brunt,  it  is 
when  they  forget  what  favors  they  have  re- 
ceived, and  how  unworthy  they  are  of  them. 
This  is  the  place  also  where  others  have  been 
hard  put  to  it.  But  more  of  the  place  when 
we  are  come  to  it;  for  I  persuade  myself  that 
to  this  day  there  remains  either  some  sign  of 
the  battle,  or  some  monument  to  testify  that 
puch  a  battle  there  was  fouo-ht. 


A   I 'LACK  TO  i'.i:  iik.-ii:f.i».  Cri: 

Then  snid  ^[orcy.  "I  ihiiik  [  ;nii  as  well  in 
.wMTgriV;.  "  til  is  valley  as  I  have  Ikmmi  any  where 
else  in  all  oui"  Journey:  the  place,  mothinks, 
suits  with  n\y  s])irit.  I  love  to  ])c  in  such 
]»laces.  where  there  is  no  rattliuir  with  coaches, 
nor  runiblina:  with  wheels.  Methinks.  here  one 
may.  without  much  molestation,  be  thinking 
what  he  is.  whence  he  came.  Avliat  lie  has  done, 
and  to  what  the  King  has  called  him.  Here 
one  may  think,  and  break  at  heart,  and  melt 
in  one's  spirit,  until  one's  eyes  become  as  the 
fish-pools  in  Heshl)on.  Song  7  :  4.  They  that 
go  rightly  through  this  valley  of  Baca,  make  it 
a  well;  the  rain  that  God  sends  down  from 
heaven  npon  them  that  are  here,  also  fdleth 
the  pools.  This  valley  is  that  from  whence 
also  the  King  will  give  to  his  their  vineyards; 
and  they  that  go  through  it  shall  sing,  as  Chris- 
tian did.  for  all  he  met  with  ApoUyon."  Psa. 
84:5-7;  Hos.  2:15. 

Great.  "T  is  true  ;  I  have  gone  through  this 
valley  many  a  time,  and  never  was  better  than 
when  here.  I  have  also  been  a  conductor  to 
several  pilgi-ims.  and  they  have  confessed  the 
same.  "To  this  man  will  I  look,"'  saith  the  King, 
"even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite 
spirit,  and  ti-embleth  at  my  word."     I.sa.  66  : 2. 


528  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now  they  were  come  to  the  place  where 
the  aforementioned  battle  was  fonght.  Then 
said  the  guide  to  Christiana,  her  children,  and 
Mercy,  "This  is  the  place;  on  this  J^l-^hnS 
ground  Christian  stood,  and  up  there  Sla  r.g.u.  '""' 
came  Apollyon  against  him.  And,  look,  did  I 
not  tell  you?  here  is  some  of  your  husband's 
blood  upon  these  stones  to  this  day.  Behold, 
also,  how  here  and  there  are  yet  to  be  seen 
upon  the  place  some  of  the  shiyers  of  Apol- 
lyon's  broken  darts.  See,  also,  how  they  did 
beat  the  ground  with  their  feet  as  they  fought, 
to  make  good  their  i)laces  against  each  other ; 
how  also  with  their  by-blows  they    some  signs  oi 

^  "^     the    battle    re- 

did split  the  very  stones  in  pieces.  ""^'" 

Yerily,  Christian  did  here  play  the  man,  and 
showed  himself  as  stout  as  Hercules  could,  had 
he  been  here,  eyen  he  himself.  When  Apol- 
lyon was  beat,  he  made  his  retreat  to  the  next 
valley,  that  is  called  the  valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death,  unto  which  we  shall  come    a  monument 

of     Christian's 

anon.  Lo,  yonder  also  stands  a  mon-  victory. 
ument,  on  which  is  engraven  this  battle,  and 
Christian's  victory,  to  his  fame  throughout  all 
ages."  So,  because  it  stood  just  on  the  way- 
side before  them,  they  stepped  to  it.  and  read 
the  writing,  which  word  for  Avord  was  this : 


TIIK  SHADOW  OF  DEATH.  C2Q 

"nurd  In-  here  was  a  battle  fought, 
Most  strange,  and  yet  most  true ; 
Cliristian  and  Apollyon  souglit 
Each  other  to  subdue. 

The  man  so  bravely  played  the  man, 

lie  made  the  fiend  to  fly ; 
Of  which  a  monument  I  stand, 

The  same  to  testify." 

When  tliov  had  passed  by  this  i)lace,  tho} 
came  111)011  tlie  Itonlcrs  of  the  ^^hadow  of  Death. 
This  valley  was  longer  than  the  other;  a  i)lace 
also  most  stranfrcly  jiannted  with  evil  things, 
as  many  are  al)le  to  testify:  but  these  women 
and  children  went  the  better  through  it,  be- 
cause they  had  daylight,  and  because  Mr. 
Great-heart  was  their  conductor. 

When  they  were  entered  upon  this  valley, 
heard:""'""^'  thcy  thought  they  heard  a  groaning, 
as  of  dying  men,  a  very  great  groaning.  They 
thought  also  that  they  did  hear  words  of  lam- 
entation, spoken  as  of  some  in  extreme  tor- 
ment. These  things  made  the  boys  to  quake; 
the  women  also  looked  i)alc  and  wan ;  but  their 
guide  bid  them  be  of  good  comfort. 

So  they  went  on  a  little  further,  and  they 
.hikes  ^"■°"""  thought  that  they  felt  the  ground 
begin  to  shake  under  them,  as  if  some  hollow 
place  was  there:  they  heard  also  a  kind  of 
hissing,  as  of  ser})ents,  but  nothing  as  yet  ap- 

Pil.    Pro-  23 


fiBO  PILGRIM'S  PROPxRESS. 

pearcd.  Then  said  the  boys,  "Are  we  not  yet 
at  the  end  of  this  doleful  place?"  But  the 
p:nide  also  bid  them  be  of  good  courage,  and 
j3ok  well  to  their  feet;  "lest  haply,"  said  he, 
"you  be  taken  in  some  snare." 

Now  James  began  to  be  sick;  but  I  think 
the  cause  thereof  was  fear :  so  his  wilnian'  '*'"' 
mother  gaye  him  some  of  that  glass  of  spirits 
that  had  been  giyen  her  at  the  Interpreter's 
house,  and  three  of  the  pills  that  Mr.  Skill  had 
prepared,  and  the  boy  began  to  reyiye.  Thus 
they  went  on  till  they  came  to  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  yalley;  and  then  Christiana  said, 
"  Methinks  I  see  something  yonder  upon  the 
road  before  us,  a  thing  of  a  shape  such  as  I 
haye  not  seen."  Then  said  Joseph,  ^,1^1  ^^''^  "P" 
"Mother,  what  is  it?"  "An  ugly  thing,  child; 
an  ugly  thing."  said  she.  "But,  mother,  what 
is  it  like?"  said  he.  "  "T  is  like  I  cannot  tell 
what,"  said  she  ;  "  and  now  it  is  but  arlat.a'id.'"'^' 
a  little  way  off."     Then  said  she,  "It  is  nigh." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "let  them 
that  are  most  afraid  keep  close  to  c^^nagcruiem"" 
me."  So  the  fiend  came  on,  and  the  conductor 
met  it;  but  when  it  was  just  come  to  him,  it 
yanished  to  all  their  sights.  Then  remembered 
they  what  had  been  said  some  time  ap;o:  "Re- 


(;i!K.\T   MIST    .\M>    DA  II  K\  ESP.  581 

sist  llic  devil.  Mild  lie  will  Ileo  Trom  you."' 
James  4:7. 

They  went  therefore  on,  as  bein^  a  little 
refreshed.  But  they  had  not  gone  far,  before 
Merey,  looking-  beliind  her,  saw,  as  she  thought, 
Alien.  something  most  like  a  lion,  and  it 
came  at  a  great  padding  pace  after ;  and  it  had 
a  hollow  voice  of  roaring;  and  at  every  roar 
it  gave,  it  made  the  valley  echo,  and  all  their 
hearts  to  ache,  save  the  heart  of  him  that  was 
their  guide,  l-^o  it  came'  up,  and  ^Mr.  Great- 
heart  went  behind,  and  put  the  pilgrims  all 
before  him.  The  lion  also  came  on  apace,  and 
Mr.  Great-heart  addressed  himself  to  give  him 
battle.  1  Pet.  5:8,  9.  But  when  he  saw  that 
it  was  determined  that  resistance  should  be 
made,  he  also  drew  back,  and  came  no  further. 

Then  they  went  on  again,  and  their  con- 
ductor went  before  them,  till  they  came  to  a 
da^knei'  ""'^  place  where  was  cast  up  a  pit  the 
wliole  ])readth  of  the  w^ay;  and  before  they 
could  be  prepared  to  go  over  that,  a  great  mist 
and  a  darkness  fell  uj)on  them,  so  that  tlicv 
could  not  see.  Then  said  the  pilgrims,  "Alas, 
what  now  shall  w^e  do  ?"  But  their  guide  made 
answer.  "Fear  not;  stand  still,  and  see  what 
an  end  will  be  ])ut  to  this  also:"'  so  they  stayed 


532  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

there,  because  their  path  was  marred.  They 
then  also  thought  that  they  did  hear  more  ap- 
parently the  noise  and  rushing  of  the  enemies ; 
the  fire  also  and  smoke  of  the  pit  were  much 
easier  to  be  discerned.  Then  said  Christiana 
to  Mercy,  ' '  Now  I  see  what  my  poor  husband.^ 
went  through.     I  have  heard  much  Christiana  now 

knows  what  her 

of  this  place,  but  I  never  was  here  i^ustand  teit. 
before  now.  Poor  man!  he  went  here  all  alone 
in  the  night ;  he  had  night  almost  quite  through 
tjie.way:  also  these*  fiends  were  busy  about 
him,  as  if  they  would  have  torn  him  in  pieces. 
Many  have  spoken  of  it;  but  none  can  tell 
what  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  should 
mean  until  they  come  in  themselves.  The 
heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness ;  and  a  stran- 
ger intermeddleth  not  with  its  joy.  Prov. 
14:10.     To  be  here  is  a  fearful  thing." 

Great.  This  is  like  doing  business  in  great 
waters,  or  like  going  down  into  the  deep.  This 
is  like  being  in  the  heart  of  the  sea,  and  like 
going  down  to  the  bottoms  of  the  mountains. 
Now  it  seems  as  if  the  earth,  with  its  bars,, 
were  about  us  for  ever.  But  let  them  that 
walk  in  darkness,  and  have  no  light,  trust  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  their 
God.     Isa.  50:10.     For  my  part,  as  I  have 


FIUITri  UF  r  It  AVER.  533 

told  you  already.  I  have  frone  often  through 
this  valley,  and  have  been  much  harder  put  to 
it  than  now  I  am;  and  yet  you  see  1  am  alive. 
J  would  not  boast,  for  that  I  am  not  my  own 
fsaviour;  but  I  trust  we  shall  have  a  good  de- 
liverance. Come,  let  us  i)ray  for  light  to  ITim 
that  can  lighten  our  darkness,  and  that  can 
rebuke  not  only  these,  but  all  the  Satans  in 
hell. 

So  they  cried  and  prayed,  and  God  sent 
They  pray,  light  aud  dcliverauce,  for  there  was 
now  no  let  in  their  way ;  no,  not  there  where 
but  now  they  were  stopped  with  a  pit.  Yet 
they  were  not  got  through  the  valley.  So  they 
went  on  still,  and  met  with  great  stinks  and 
loathsome  smells,  to  the  great  annoyance  of 
them.  Then  said  Mercy  to  Christiana,  "It  is 
not  so  pleasant  being  here  as  at  the  gate,  or  at 
the  Interpreter's,  or  at  the  house  where  we 
lay  last.'' 

"  Oh,  but,"  said  one  of  the  boys,  "it  is  not 
bo'Jrrcp'iLs.*'"'  so  bad  to  go  through  here,  as  it  is  to 
abide  here  always ;  and  for  aught  I  know,  one 
reason  why  we  must  go  this  way  to  the  house 
prepared  for  us  is,  that  our  home  might  be 
made  the  sweeter  to  us." 

"Well  said.  Samuel,"  (juoth  the  guide  ;  "thou 


534  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS, 

hast  now  spoke  like  a  man."  "Why,  if  ever 
I  get  out  here  again,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  think  I 
shall  prize  light  and  good  way  better  than  I 
ever  did  in  all  my  life."  Then  said  the  guide, 
"  We  shall  be  out  by  and  by." 

So  on  the}'  went,  and  Joseph  said,  "Cannot 
we  see  to  the  end  of  this  valley  as  yet  ?"  Then 
said  the  guide,  "Look  to  your  feet,  for  we 
shall  presently  be  among  the  snares:"  so  they 
looked  to  their  feet,  and  went  on;  but  they 
were  troubled  much  with  the  snares.  Now, 
when  they  were  come  among  the  snares,  they 
espied  a  man  cast  into  the  ditch  on  the  left 
hand,  with  his  flesh  all  rent  and  torn.    Heedless    is 

slaiu,and  Take- 

Then  said  the  guide,  "That  is  one  i^'^'^'^ p'^'^^^^'^'^- 
Heedless,  that  was  going  this  way ;  he  has  lain 
there  a  great  while.  There  was  one  Take-heed 
with  him  when  he  was  taken  and  slain,  but  he 
escaped  their  hands.  You  cannot  imagine  how 
many  are  killed  hereabouts,  and  yet  men  are 
so  foolishly  venturous  as  to  set  out  lightly  on 
pilgrimage,  and  to  come  without  a  guide.  Poor 
Christian !  it  was  a  wonder  that  he  here  es- 
caped; but  he  was  beloved  of  his  God;  also 
he  had  a  good  heart  of  his  own,  or  else  he 
could  never  have  done  it." 

Now  they  drew  towards  the  end  of  this 


MAIL'S  ACCLSATION.  530 

way ;  and  just  tlierc  where  Christian  had  seen 

the  cave  when  he  went  by,  out  thence  came 

Maul,  a  giant,  forth  Maul,  a  giant.     This  Maul  did 

quarrels      willi 

Great  heart.         ^^^(^     ^q     i^poW     yOUHg      pilgriuiS     witll 

sopliistry:  and  he  calh'd  Great-heart  by  liis 
name,  and  said  unto  him.  'How  many  times 
have  you  been  forbidden  to  do  these  things  ?*' 
Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "What  things?'' 
'What  things?''  quoth  the  giant;  "you  know 
what  things:  but  I  will  [lut  an  end  to  your 
trade."' 

"But  pray,"  said  Mr.  GTeat-heart,  "before 
we  fall  to  it,  let  us  understand  wherefore  we 
must  fight."  Xow  the  women  and  child len 
stood  trembling,  and  knew  not  what  to  do. 
Quoth  the  giant,  "You  rob  the  countr}',  and 
rob  it  with  the  worst  of  thefts."  "These  are 
but  generals,"  said  Mr.  Great-heart;  "come 
to  particulars,  man." 

Then  said  the  giant,  "Thou  practisest  the 
(iods ministers  Craft  of  a  kidnap])er:  thou  gatherest 

counted  as  kid- 
nappers. Yip  women  and  children,  and  carriest 

them  into  a  strange  country,  to  the  weakening 
of  my  master's  kingdom."  But  now  Great- 
heart  replied,  "I  am  a  servant  of  the  God  o\' 
heaven ;  my  business  is  to  persuade  sinners  to 
repentance.     I  am  commanded  to  do  my  en- 


536  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

deavors  to  turn  men,  women,  and  children  from 
darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power    The  giant  and 

°  '■  Mr.  Great  heart 

of  Satan  unto  God;  and  if  this  be  in^stfight. 
indeed  the  ground  of  thy  quarrel,  let  us  fall  to 
it  as  soon  as  thou  wilt." 

Then  the  giant  came  up,  and  Mr.  Great- 
heart  went  to  meet  him;  and  as  he  went  he 
drew  his  sword,  but  the  giant  had  a  club.  So 
without  more  ado  they  fell  to  it,  and  at  the 
first  blow  the  giant  struck  Mr.  Great-heart 
down  upon  one  of  his  knees.     With    ^veak  folks' 

prayers  at  some 

that  the  women  atid  chudren  cried  tim^s  heip  the 

cries  ot  stronger 


himself,  laid  about  him  in  full  lusty  manner, 
and  gave  the  giant  a  wound  in  his  arm.  Thus 
he  fought  for  the  space  of  an  hour,  to  that 
height  of  heat,  that  the  breath  came  out  of  the 
giant's  nostrils  as  the  heat  doth  out  of  a  boil- 
ing caldron. 

Then  they  sat  down  to  rest  them ;  but  Mr. 
Great-heart  betook  himself  to  prayer.  Also 
the  women  and  children  did  nothing  but  sigh 
and  cry  all  the  time  that  the  battle  did  last. 

When  they  had  rested  them,  and  taken 
breath,  they  both  fell  to  it  again;  and  Mr. 
Great-heart,  with  a  blow,  fetched  the  struik  do^^M!''"* 
giant  down  to  the  ground.     "Nay,  hold,  let  me 


TIIK  CIA  NT  SLAIN.  537 

recover/'  (Hioth  he:  so  Mr.  (Ji-eat-lieiirt  fairly 
let  him  uet  up.  So  to  it  tliev  went  a.L^aiu,  and 
tlie  giant  niis.^^ed  but  little  of  all  to  breaking 
Mr.  Great-lieart's  seuU  with  his  elub. 

Mr.  Great-heart  seeing  that,  runs  to  him 

in  the  full  heat  of  his  spirit,  and  j)iereeth  him 

under  the  tilth  rib.    With  that  the  giant  began 

He  is  slain,  to  faiut,  aiid  couId  hold  lip  his  elub 

and    his     head 

disposed  of.  jiQ  longer.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart 
seconded  his  blow,  and  smit  the  head  of  the 
giant  from  his  shoulders.  Then  the  women 
and  children  rejoiced,  and  Mr.  Great-heart 
also  praised  God  for  the  deliverance  he  had 
wrought. 

When  this  was  done,  they  among  them 
erected  a  pillar,  and  fastened  the  giant's  head 
thereon,  and  wrote  under  it  in  letters  that  pas- 
sengers might  read, 

'•  He  that  did  wear  tliis  head  was  one 

That  pilgrims  did  misuse  ; 
He  stopped  tlicir  vray,  he  spared  none. 

But  did  them  all  abuse  ; 
Until  that  I  Great-heart  arose, 

The  pilgrims'  guide  to  be ; 
Until  that  I  did  him  oppose 

That  was  their  enemy." 


23=" 


538  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


THE  SIXTH  STAGE. 

Now  I  saw  that  they  went  on  to  the  ascent 
that  was  a  little  way  off,  cast  up  to  be  a  pros- 
pect for  pilgrims.  That  was  the  i)lace  from 
whence  Christian  had  the  first  sight  of  Faithful 
his  brother.  Wherefore,  here  they  sat  down 
and  rested.  They  also  here  did  eat  and  drink, 
and  make  merry,  for  that  they  had  gotten  de- 
liverance from  this  so  dangerous  an  enemy. 
As  they  sat  thus  and  did  eat,  Christiana  asked 
the  guide  if  he  had  caught  no  hurt  in  the  bat- 
tle. Then  said  Mr.  Clreat-heart,  "No,  save  a 
little  on  my  flesh ;  yet  that  also  shall  be  so  far 
from  being  to  my  detriment,  that  it  is  at  pres- 
ent a  proof  of  my  love  to  my  Master  and  you, 
and  shall  be  a  means,  by  grace,  to  increase  my 
reward  at  last." 

Ohr.  But  were  you  not  afraid,  good  sir, 
when  you  saw  him  come  with  his  club  ? 

"  It  is  my  duty,"  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "to 
mistrust  my  own  ability,  that  I  may  th^Shr'^  ""^ 
have  reliance  on  Him  who  is  stronger  than  all." 

Chr.  But  what  did  you  think  when  he  fetch- 
ed you  down  to  the  ground  at  the  first  blow  ? 
"Why,  I  thought,"  quoth  Mr.  Great-heart, 


OLD  HONEST.  53'.) 

'"that  so  my  ^faster  liiinsclt"  was  servi'd.  luid 
yet  lie  it  was  that  coiiqiUM-cd  at  last."'  '2  Cor. 
4:10,  11  :   Rom.  8  :  37. 

M.VTT.   AVheii   you  all   have   thought   what 
Matthcwhcre  YOU   plcasc,   I  thiulv  Go(l  has  been 

admires    God's  ^ 

goodness.  wonderfully  good  unto  us,  both  iu 
bringing  us  out  of  this  valley,  and  in  deliver- 
ing us  out  of  the  hand  of  this  enemy.  P'or  my 
part,  I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  distrust 
our  God  any  more,  since  he  has  now,  and  in 
such  a  place  as  this,  given  us  such  testimony 
of  his  love. 

Then  they  got  up,  and  went  ibrward. 

Xowa  little  before  them  stood  an  oak;  and 

under  it,  when  they  came  to  it,  they  found  an 

Old    Honest  oUl  pilgrim  fast  asleep.     Thev  knew 

asleep  under  an  ^ 

'"'^-  that  he  was  a  pilgrim  by  his  clothes, 

and  his  staff,  and  his  girdle. 

So  the  guide,  Mr.  Great-heart,  awaked  him, 
and  the  old  gentleman,  as  he  lifted  up  his  eyes, 
cried  out,  "What's  the  matter?  Who  are  you; 
and  what  is  your  business  here  ?" 

Gre.vt.   Come,    man.   be  not  so   hot:  here 
are  none  but  friends. 
i^^l^^^"^.         Yet   the   old  man   gets   up.   an.l 

other  for  his  en-       ,  n  ,   .  ,  i        -n   i 

emy.  stauds  ujM)!!  his  guanl.  and  will  know 

of  them  what  they  are.     Then  said  the  guide, 


540  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

"My  name  is  Great-heart;  I  am  the  guide  of 
these  pilgrims  that  are  going  to  the  celestial 
country." 

Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  ' '  I  cry  you  mercy ; 
I  feared  that  you  had  been  of  the    xaik  between 

Great-heart  aud 

company  of  those  that  some  time  ago  "onest. 
did  rob  Little-faith  of  his  money;  but,  now  I 
look  better  about  me,  I  perceive  you  are  hon- 
ester  people." 

GrREAT.  Wh}^,  what  would  or  could  j^ou 
have  done  to  have  helped  yourself,  if  indeed 
we  had  been  of  that  company  ? 

Hon.  Done  ?  why,  I  would  have  fought  as 
long  as  breath  had  been  in  me ;  and  had  I  so 
done,  I  am  sure  you  could  never  have  given 
me  the  worst  on  't ;  for  a  Christian  can  never 
be  overcome,  unless  he  shall  yield  of  himself. 

' '  Well  said,  Father  Honest, " quoth  the  guide ; 
"  for  by  this  I  know  thou  art  a  cock  of  the 
right  kind,  for  thou  hast  said  the  truth." 

Hon.  And  by  this  also  I  know  that  thou 
knowest  what  true  pilgrimage  is ;  for  all  others 
do  think  that  we  are  the  soonest  overcome  of 
any. 

Great.  Well,  now  we  are  so  happily  met, 
pra}^  let  me  crave  your  name,  and  the  name  of 
the  place  you  came  from. 


OLD  IIONEST'S  STORY.  541 

Hon.  My  name  T  cannot  tell  von.,  but  T 
H^I^TcanK^""  came  from  the  town  of  Stupidity ;  it 
liotli  about  four  degrees  beyond  the  city  of 
Destruction. 

Great.  Oh.  are  you  that  countryman?  Then 
I  deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of  you;  your  name 
is  Old  Honesty,  is  it  not  ? 

So  the  old  gentleman  blushed,  and  said, 
"Not  honesty  in  the  abstract,  but  Honest  is 
my  name;  and  I  wish  that  my  nature  may 
agree  to  what  I  am  called.  But,  sir,'"'  said 
the  old  gentleman,  "how  could  you  guess  that 
I  am  such  a  man,  since  I  came  from  such  a 
place  ?" 

Great.  I  had  heard  of  you  before,'  b}^  my 
Master;  for  he  knows  all  things  that  are  done 
are  «^^e''tZu  Oil  the  earth.  But  I  have  often  Avon- 
carnai.  "'"^'''^  dcrcd  that  any  should  come  from 
your  place ;  for  your  town  is  worse  than  is  the 
city  of  Destruction  itself. 

Hox.  Yes,  we  lie  more  off  from  the  sun,  and 
so  are  more  cold  and  senseless.  But  were  a  man 
in  a  mountain  of  ice,  yet  if  the  Sun  of  right- 
eousness will  arise  upon  him,  his  frozen  heart 
shall  feel  a  thaw :  and  thus  it  has  been  with  me. 

Great.  T  believe  it.  Father  Honest,  I  be- 
lieve it;  for  T  know  the  thinti-  is  true. 


542  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Then  the  old  gentleman  saluted  all  the  pil- 
grims with  a  holy  kiss  of  eharity,  and  asked 
them  their  names,  and  how  they  had  fared 
since  they  set  out  on  their  pilgrimage. 

Then  said  Christiana,  "My  name  I  suppose 
you  have  heard  of;  good  Christian  ^.Smftaif 
was  my  husband,  and  these  four  are  his  chil- 
dren." But  can  you  think  how  the  old  gentle- 
man was  taken,  when  she  told  him  who  she 
was  ?  He  skipped,  he  smiled,  he  blessed  them 
with  a  thousand  good  wishes,  saying, 

"I  have  heard  much  of  your  husband,  and 
of  his  travels  and  wars  which  he  underwent  in 
his  days.  Be  it  spoken  to  your  comfort,  the 
name  of  your  husband  rings  all  over  these 
parts  of  the  world;  his  faith,  his  courage,  his 
enduring,  and  his  sincerity  under  all,  have  made 
his  name  famous."  Then  he  turned  him  to  the 
boys,  and  asked  them  of  their  names,  which 
they  told  him.     Then  said  he  unto    owMr.  Hon- 

est's  blessing  ou 

them,  "Matthew,  be  thou  like  Mat-  "i'^"!- 
thew  the  publican,  not  in  vice,  but  in  virtue." 
Matt.  10:3.  "  Samuel,"  said  he,  "  be  thou  like 
Samuel  the  prophet,  a  man  of  faith  and  prayer." 
Psa.  99  :  6.  "  Joseph,"  said  he,  "be  thou  like 
Joseph  in  Potiphar's  house,  chaste,  and  one 
that  flees   from  temptation.     Gen.   39.     And 


MR.  feaiunh;.  .',43 

James,  \)v  lliou  like  flames  tlie  just,  and  like 
James  the  hrotlicr  ol"  our  Lord."  Aets  l:]o. 
Then  they  told  him  of  Merey.  and  how  she  had 
left  her  town  and  her  kindred  to  come  along 
with  Christiana  and  with  her  sons.  At  that 
^^iie^  bicsseth  tij^  ^3ij  j^j^jj^.^j-  jj^.^j^  g^j^l^  "Merey  is 

thy  name;  by  mercy  shalt  thou  be  sustained 
and  carried  through  all  those  difficulties  that 
shall  assault  thee  in  thy  way,  till  tlion  shalt 
come  thither  where  thon  shalt  look  the  Foun- 
tain of  mercy  in  the  face  with  comfort."  All 
this  while  the  guide  Mr.  Great-heart  was  very 
well  i)leased,  and  smiled  upon  his  companions. 

Now,  as  they  walked  along  together,  the 
Mr.l^caring""'  g"itlc  askcd  thc  old  gentleman  if  he 
did  not  know  one  Mr.  Fearing,  that  came  on 
pilgrimage  out  of  his  parts. 

"  Yes,  very  well,"  said  Honest.  "  Pie  was 
a  man  that  had  the  root  of  the  matter  in  him; 
but  he  was  one  of  the  most  troublesome  pil- 
grims that  ever  I  met  with  in  all  my  days."' 

Great.  I  perceive  yon  knew  him,  for  you 
have  given  a  very  right  character  of  him. 

ITox.  Knew  him  ?  I  was  a  great  compan- 
ion of  his;  I  was  with  him  most  an  end;  when 
he  lirst  began  to  think  upon  what  would  come 
npon  us  hereafter,  T  was  with  him. 


544  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Great.  I  was  his  guide  from  my  Master's 
house  to  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city. 

Hon.  Then  you  knew  him  to  be  a  trouble- 
gome  one. 

Great.  I  did  so;  but  I  could  very  well 
bear  it;  for  men  of  my  calling  are  oftentimes 
intrusted  w^ith  the  conduct  of  such  as  he  was. 

Hon.  Well,  then,  pray  let  us  hear  a  little 
of  him,  and  how  he  managed  himself  under 
your  conduct. 

Great.  Why,  he  was  always  afraid  that  he 
should  come  short  of  whither  he  had    Mr.  reanng's 

troublesome  pil- 

a  desire  to  go.     Every  thing  fright-  s^mage. 
ened  him  that  he  heard  any  body  speak  of,  if 
it  had  but  the  least  appearance  of  opposition 
in  it.     I  heard  that  he  lay  roaring    His  behavior 

•^  ^    at    the    Slough 

at  the  Slough  of  Despond  for  above  otvespond. 
a  month  together ;  nor  durst  he,  for  all  he  saw 
several  go  over  before  him,  venture,  though 
they  many  of  them  offered  to  lend  him  their 
hands.  He  would  not  go  back  again,  neither. 
The  celestial  city — he  said  he  should  die  if  he 
came  not  to  it ;  and  yet  he  was  dejected  at 
every  difficulty,  and  stumbled  at  every  straw 
that  any  body  cast  in  his  way.  Well,  after 
he  had  lain  at  the  Slough  of  Despond  a  great 
while,  as  I  have  told  you,  one  sunshiny  morn^ 


F  E  A  W  I X  G  ' S  I)  I  F  F  I  D  E  X  C  E .  545 

iiig,  I  (l()ii"t  know  hnw.  lie  ventured,  and  so 
got  over  ;  l)ii(  when  lie  was  over,  lie  would 
scarce  believe  it.  He  had,  I  think,  a  Slough 
of  Despond  in  his  mind,  a  slough  that  he  car- 
Tied  everywhere  with  him,  or  else  he  could 
never  have  been  as  he  was.  So  he  came  up 
to  the  gate,  you  know  what  I  mean,  that  stands 
at  the  head  oC  this  way,  and  there  also  he 
atVhegatr''''  stood  a  good  while  before  he  would 
venture  to  knock.  When  the  gate  was  opened, 
he  would  give  back,  and  give  place  to  others, 
and  say  that  he  was  not  worthy.  For,  for  all 
he  got  before  some  to  the  gate,  yet  many  of 
them  Avent  in  before  him.  There  the  poor  man 
would  stand  shaking  and  shrinking,  I  dare  say 
it  would  have  pitied  one's  heart  to  have  seen 
him.  Xor  would  he  go  back  again.  At  last 
he  took  the  hammer  that  hanged  on  the  gate, 
in  his  hand,  and  gave  a  small  rap  or  two ;  then 
one  opened  to  him,  but  he  shrunk  back  as  be- 
fore. He  that  opened  stei)ped  out  after  him, 
and  said,  "Thou  trembling  one,  what  wantest 
'thou?"'  With  that  he  fell  down  to  the  ground. 
He  that  spoke  to  him  wondered  to  sec  him  so 
faint,  so  he  said  to  him,  "Peace  be  to  thee; 
np.  for  I  have  set  open  the  door  to  thee:  come 
in,  for  thou  art  blessed."    With  that  he  got  np, 


546  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  went  in  trembling;  and  when  he  was  in, 
he  was  ashamed  to  show  his  face.  Well,  after 
he  had  been  entertained  there  a  while,  as  yon 
know  how  the  manner  is,  he  was  bid  go  on  his 
way,  and  also  told  the  way  he  should  take. 
So  he  went  on  till  he  came  to  our  house ;  but 
as  he  behayed  himself  at  the  gate,  so  he  did  at 
mj^  Master  the   Interpreter's  door,    ms  behavior 

atthelnterpret- 

He  lay  there  about  in  the  cold  a  ""^ d"'*^'"- 
good  while,  before  he  would  adyenture  to  call ; 
yet  he  would  not  go  back :  and  the  nights  were 
long  and  cold  then.  Nay,  he  had  a  note  of 
necessity  in  his  bosom  to  my  Master  to  receiye 
him,  and  grant  him  the  comfort  of  his  house, 
and  also  to  allow  him  a  stout  and  yaliant  con- 
ductor, because  he  was  himself  so  chicken- 
hearted  a  man;  and  yet  for  all  that  he  y>^as 
afraid  to  call  at  the  door.  So  he  lay  up  and 
down  thereabouts,  till,  poor  man,  he  was  al- 
most staryed ;  yea,  so  great  was  his  dejection, 
that  though  he  saw  seyeral  others  for  knocking 
get  in,  yet  he  was  afraid  to  yenture.  At  last, 
I  think  I  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  per- 
ceiying  a  man  to  be  up  and  down  about  the 
door,  I  went  out  to  him,  and  asked  what  he 
was:  but,  poor  man,  the  water  stood  in  his 
eyes;  so  I  perceiyed  what  he  wanted.     T  went 


FEARING   p:NCOURAr,  ED.  547 

tlicrelbre  in,  ainl  told  it  in  tlic  lionse,  and  we 
showed  tlie  thing  to  our  Lord;  so  he  sent  me 
out  again,  to  entreat  him  to  come  in;  but  I 
dare  say,  I  had  hard  work  to  do  it.  At  last 
tlSed™"  lie  came  in;  and  I  will  say  that  for 
my  Lord,  he  carried  it  wonderfully  lovingly  to 
him.  There  were  but  a  few  good  bits  at  the 
table,  but  some  of  it  was  laid  upon  his  trencher. 
Then  he  presented  the  note ;  and  my  Lord 
looked  thereon,  and  said  his  desire  should  be 
granted.  So  wdien  he  had  been  there  a  good 
.•n"our^.a"?t  ^vhile,  he  seemed  to  get  eome  heart, 
cr'^s houJr^'"'"  and  to  be- a  little  more  comfortable. 
For  my  blaster,  you  must  know,  is  one  of  very 
tender  boAvels,  especially  to  them  that  are 
afraid;  wherefore  he  carried  it  so  towards  him 
as  might  tend  most  to  his  encouragement.  AVell, 
when  he  had  had  a  sight  of  the  things  of  the 
place,  and  was  ready  to  take  his  journey  to  go 
to  the  city,  my  Lord,  as  he  did  to  Christian 
before,  gave  him  a  bottle  of  sj)irits,  and  some 
comfortaljle  things  to  eat.  Thus  Ave  set  for- 
ward, and  I  went  before  him  ;  ])nt  the  man  was 
but  of  few  words,  only  he  would  sigh  aloud. 

AVhen  we  were  come  to  where  the  three 
fellows  were  hanged,  he  said  that  he  doubted 
that   that  would    l)e   liis    end    also.     Onlv   he 


548  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

seemed  glad  when  lie  saw  the  cross  and  the 
sepulchre.     There  I  confess  he  de-    Hewasgreat- 

■■■  ly  afraid  when 

sired  to  stay  a  little  to  look ;  and  he  be't!''b'^t'cLt''y 

-,     „  ,   .,  (,,  ,       ,  T.,      when  he  saw  the 

seemed  lor  a  while  alter  to  be  a  lit-  cross. 
tie  cheery.  When  he  came  to  the  hill  Difficul- 
ty, he  made  no  stick  at  that,  nor  did  he  much 
fear  the  lions;  for  you  must  know  that  his 
troubles  were  not  about  such  things  as  these: 
his  fear  was  about  his  acceptance  at  last. 

I  got  him  in  at  the  house  Beautiful,  I  think 
before  he  was  willing.  Also,  when  he  was  in, 
I  brought  him  acquainted  with  the  damsels  of 

the  place ;  but  he  was  ashamed  to  rearing  dump- 
ish at  the  house 

make  himself  much  in  company.  He  i^eautitui. 
desired  much  to  be  alone ;  yet  he  always  loved 
good  talk,  and  often  would  get  behind  the 
screen  to  hear  it.  He  also  loved  much  to  see 
ancient  things,  and  to  be  pondering  them  in 
his  mind.  He  told  me  afterwards,  that  he 
loved  to  be  in  those  two  houses  from  which  he 
came  last,  to  wit,  at  the  gate,  and  that  of  the 
Interpreter,  but  that  he  durst  not  be  so  bold 
as  to  ask. 

When  we  went  also  from  the  house  Beauti- 
ful, down  the  hill,  into  the  vallej^  of  pieasantinthe 

valley    of    Hu- 

Humiliation,  he  went  down  as  well  ""ijation. 
as  ever  I  saw  a  man  in  my  life ;  for  he  cat ed 


iKAlllXr,    DISTRESf^ED.  510 

not  li(»w  mean  he  was,  so  he  miuht  l)e  haj)i>y 
at  hist.  Yea,  I  tliiiik  tluM-e  was  a  kind  of 
sympathy  between  that  valley  and  him ;  tor  1 
never  saw  him  better  in  all  his  pilgrimage  than 
he  was  in  that  valley. 

Here  he  wonld  lie  down,  embrace  the  gronnd, 
and  kiss  the  very  flowers  that  grew  in  this  val- 
ley. Lam.  3:27-29.  He  wonld  now  be  np 
every  morning  by  break  of  day,  tracing  and 
walking  to  and  fro  in  the  valley. 

But  when  he  was  come  to  the  entrance  of 
ed\u''t\rvaiu^v  ^^^^  vallcy  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I 
iiiiktl*''"'""  thonght  i  shonld  have  lost  my  man: 
not  for  that  he  had  any  inclination  to  go  back ; 
that  he  always  abhorred ;  but  he  was  ready  to 
die  for  fear.  "Oh,  the  hobgoblins  will  have 
me!  the  hobgoblins  will  have  me  I"  cried  he; 
and  I  could  not  beat  him  out  of  it.  lie  made 
such  a  noise,  and  such  an  outcry  here,  that  had 
they  but  heard  him,  it  was  enough  to  encourage 
them  to  come  and  fall  upon  us. 

But  this  I  took  very  great  notice  of,  that 
this  valley  was  as  (juiet  when  we  went  through 
it,  as  ever  I  knew  it  before  or  shice.  I  su})- 
])Ose-  those  enemies  here  had  now  a  special 
check  Trom  our  Lord,  and  a  command  not  to 
meddle  until  ^Ir.  Fearing  had  i)assed  over  it. 


550  PILCxRIM'^   PROGRESS. 

It  would  be  too  tedious  to  tell  you  of  all ; 
we  will  therefore  only  mention  a  passage  or 
two  more.  When  he  was  eome  to  at  v'anHy  Fiilr'' 
Vanity  Fair,  I  thought  he  would  have  fought 
with  all  the  men  in  the  fair.  I  feared  there  we 
should  have  been  both  knocked  on  the  head, 
so  hot  was  he  against  their  fooleries.  Upon 
the  Enchanted  ground  he  was  very  wakeful. 
But  when  he  was  come  at  the  river  where  was 
no  bridge,  there  again  he  was  in  a  h^avy  case. 
"Now,  now,"  he  said,  ''he  should  be  drowned 
for  ever,"  and  so  never  see  that  face  with  com- 
fort that  he  had  come  so  man}^  miles  to  behold. 

And  here  also  I  took  notice  of  what  was 
very  remarkable:  the  water  of  that  river  was 
lower  at  this  time  than  ever  I  saw  it  in  all  my 
life ;  so  he  went  over  at  last,  not  much  above 
wetshod.  When  he  was  going  up  to  the  gate, 
I  began  to  take  leave  of  him,  and  to  wish  him 
a  good  reception  above.  So  he  said,  auast.  ^"'''"''' 
"I  shall,  I  shall."  Then  parted  we  asunder, 
and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

Hon.  Then  it  seems  he  was  well  at  last  ? 

Great.  Tes,  yes,  I  never  had  doubt  about 
him.  He  was  a  man  of  a  choice  spirit,  only  he 
was  always  kept  very  low,  and  that  made  his 
life  so  burdensome  to  himself,  and  so  trouble- 


EEASOXS   FOR   DEPRESSION.  5ol 

porno  to  otln'i's.  V^'A.  ><S.  \\v  was.  al)ovo  niiuiy, 
toiuler  ol"  sill ;  he  was  so  alVaid  of  doing  injuries 
to  oUiers,  that  he  often  Avoukl  deny  himself  of 
iliat  whieli  was  lawful,  beeause  he  would  not 
oflfend.     Rom.  14  :  21 ;  1  Cor.  8  :  13. 

Hox.  But  what  should  l)e  the  reason  that 
such  a  good  man  should  be  all  his  days  so 
much  in  the  dark  ? 

Great.  There  are  two  sorts  of  reasons  for 
Reasons  why  it:  ouc  Is,  thc  ^vlse  God  wlll  havc  it 

good  men  are  so 

in  the  dark.  gQ .  souic  uiust  |)ipe,  aud  some  must 
weep.  Matt.  11:16.  Now^  Mr.  Fearing  was 
one  that  playecl  upon  the  bass.  He  and  his 
fellows  sound  the  sackbut,  whose  notes  are 
iuore  doleful  than  the  notes  of  other  music  are; 
though  indeed  some  say  the  bass  is  the  ground 
of  music.  And  for  my  i)art,  I  care  not  at  all 
for  that  profession  which  begins  not  in  heavi- 
ness of  mind.  Thc  first  string  that  the  musi- 
cian usually  touches  is  the  bass,  when  he  in- 
tends to  put  all  in  tune.  God  also  i)lays  u[)on 
this  string  first,  when  he  sets  the  soul  in  tune 
for  himself.  Only  there  was  the  imi)erfection 
of  Mr.  Fearing;  he  could  play  upon  no  other 
music  but  this,  till  towards  his  latter  end. 

(I  make  bold  to  talk  thus  metaphorically 
for  the  ri])eiiing  of  the  wits  of  young  readers, 


552  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

and  because,  in  the  book  of  the  Revelation  the 
saved  are  compared  to  a  company  of  musicians, 
that  play  upon  their  trumpets  and  harps,  and 
sing  their  songs  before  the  throne.  Rev.  5:8; 
14:2,  3.) 

Hon.  He  was  a  very  zealous  man,  as  one 
may  see  by  the  relation  which  you  have  given 
of  him.  Difficulties,  lions,  or  Vanity  fair,  he 
feared  not  at  all ;  it  was  only  sin,  death,  and 
hell,  that  w^ere  to  him  a  terror,  because  he  had 
some  doubts  about  his  interest  in  that  celestial 
country. 

Great.  You  say  right ;  those  were  the  things 
that  were  his  troublers ;  and  they,  as  you  have 
well  observed,  arose  from  the  weak-  him.*''"'"  ''^""^ 
ness  of  his  mind  thereabout,  not  from  weak- 
ness of  spirit  as  to  the  practical  part  of  a  pil- 
.grim's  life.  I  dare  believe  that,  as  the  proverb 
is,  he  could  have  bit  a  firebrand,  had  it  stood 
in  his  way;  but  the  things  with  which  he  was 
oppressed  no  man  ever  yet  could  shake  off 
with  ease. 

Then  said  Christiana,  "This  relation  of  Mr. 
Fearing  has  done  me  good ;  I  thought  sentence!'"''"'' ' 
nobody  had  been  like  me.  But  I  see  there 
was  some  semblance  between  this  good  man 
and  me;  onlv  we  differed  in  two  things:  his 


Til E  p I Lc RIMS',  s !•: X T !•: X V Hs .  r,r,?j 

troubles  were  so  great  tliat  tliey  broke  out; 
but  mine  1  kept  williiii.  Jlis  also  lay  so  liard 
upon  liiiii,  they  made  him  that  he  eould  not 
knoek  at  the  houses  ])rovided  for  entertain- 
ment ;  l)ut  my  trouble  was  always  such  as  made 
me  knoek  the  louder.'' 

^Ikr.  It'  I   might  also  speak   my  lieart.   I 

^Mercys    sen    ^^^^^^^  ^^^.    ^^^^^  SOUlCthlng   of    llilU   liaS 

also  dwelt  in  me.  For  I  have  ever  been  more 
afraid  of  the  lake,  and  the  loss  of  a  i)lace  in 
paradise,  than  T  have  been  of  the  loss  of  other 
things.  Oh,  thought  T.  may  I  have  the  happi- 
ness to  have  a  habitation  there  !  'T  is  enouah 
though  I  part  with  all  the  world  to  win  it. 

Then  said  Matthew,  "Fear  was  one  thing 
te'^?:""*^"'^^"'- that. made  me  think  that  I  was  far 
from  having  that  within  me  which  accompanies 
salvation.  But  if  it  was  so  with  such  a  good 
man  as  he,  why  may  it  not  also  go  well  with 
me? 

' '  No  fears,  no  grace,  * '  said  James.  ' '  Though 
^jamcs'  sen-  ^j^^^.^  jg  ^^^^  always  gracc  where  there 
is  the  fear  of  hell,  yet,  to  be  sure,  there  is  no 
grace  where  there  is  no  fear  of  God."    • 

Great.  Well  said,  James;  thou  hast  hit 
the  mark.  For  the  fear  of  God  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom  :  and  to  be  sure,  they  that  want 


554  PILGRIiM'S  PR0G11KS8. 

the  beginning  have  neither  middle  nor  end.  But 
we  will  here  conclude  our  discourse  of  Mr.  Fear- 
ing, after  we  have  sent  after  him  this  farewell : 

'•  AVell,  Master  Fearing,  thou  didst  fear 

Thy  God,  and  wast  afraid 
Of  doing  any  thing,  while  here. 

That  would  have  thee  betrayed. 
And  didst  thou  fear  the  lake  and  jDit? 

Would  others  do  so  too ! 
For,  as  for  them  that  want  thy  wit, 

They  do  themselves  undo." 

Now  I  saw  that  they  still  went  on  in  their 
talk.  For  after  Mr.  Great-heart  had  made  an 
end  with  Mr.  Fearing,  Mr.  Honest  began  to 
tell  them  of  another,  but  his  name  .vul  ^^'''  ^''^^' 
was  Mr.  Self-will.  "He  pretended  himself  to 
be  a  pilgrim,"  said  Mr.  Honest;  "but  I  per- 
suade myself  he  never  came  in  iit  the  gate  that 
stands  at  the  head  of  the  way." 

GrREAT.  Had  you  ever  any  talk  Avith  him 
about  it  ? 

Hon.  Yes,  more  than  once  or  twice;  but 
he  would  always  be  like  himself,  self-    ow    Honest 

liad  talked  with 

willed.     He  neither  cared  for  man,  '"'" 
nor  argument,  nor  yet  example ;  what  his  mind 
prompted  him  to,  that  he  would  do,  and  noth- 
ing else  could  he  be  got  to  do. 

Great.  Pray,  what  principles  did  he  hold? 
for  I  suppose  you  can  tell. 


Hon.  He  lit'ld  that  a  inau  luiulit  (ullow  tlie 
opinions'/™'""  vices  as  ^vell  as  the  virtues  of  jiil- 
grinis;  and  that  if  lie  did  both,  he  shoidd  l)e 
certainly  saved. 

Great.  How  ?  if  he  had  said,  it  is  possible 
for  the  best  to  be  guilty  of  the  vices,  as  well 
as  to  })artake  of  the  virtues  of  pilgrims,  he 
could  not  nnicli  have  been  blamed;  for  indeed 
we  are  exempted  from  no  vice  absolutely,  but 
on  condition  that  we  watch  and  strive.  But 
this,  I  perceive,  is  not  tlie  thing;  but  if  I  un- 
derstand you  right,  youi*  meaning  is,  that  he 
was  of  opinion  that  it  was  allowable  so  to  be. 

Hex.  Aye,  aye,  so  T  mean,  and  so  he  be- 
lieved ard  practised. 

Great.  But  what  grounds  had  he  for  his 
so  saying  ? 

Hox.  Why.  he  said  lie  had  the  Scripture 
for  his  warrant. 

Great.  Prithee,  Mr.  Honest,  ])resent  us 
with  a  few  particulars. 

Hox.  So  I  will.  He  said,  to  have  to  do 
with  other  men's  wives  had  been  practised  by 
David.  God's  beloved,  and  tliei-eforc  he  could 
do  it.  He  said,  to  have  more  women  than  one 
was  a  thing  that  Solomon  practised,  and  there- 
fore he  could  do  it.     Uo  said  that  Sarah  and 


556  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

the  godly  midwives  of  Egypt  lied,  and  so  did 
saved  Rahab,  and  therefore  he  could  do  it. 
He  said  that  the  disciples  went,  at  the  bidding 
of  their  Master,  and  took  away  the  owner's 
ass,  and  therefore  he  could  do  so  too.  He 
said  that  Jacob  got  the  inheritance  of  his  father- 
in  a  way  of  guile  and  dissimulation,  and  there- 
fore he  could  do  so  too. 

G-REAT.  High  base,  indeed !  And  are  you 
sure  he  was  of  this  opinion  ? 

Hon.  I  have  heard  him  plead  for  it,  bring 
Scripture  for  it,  bring  arguments  for  it,  etc. 

Great.  An  opinion  that  is  not  fit  to  be 
with  any  allowance  in  the  world. 

Hon.  You  must  understand  me  rightly :  he 
did  not  say  that  any  man  might  do  this ;  but 
that  they  who  had  the  virtues  of  those  that  did 
such  things,  might  also  do  the  same. 

Great.  But  what  more  false  than  such  a 
conclusion?  For  this  is  as  much  as  to  say  that 
because  good  men  heretofore  have  sinned  of 
infirmity,  therefore  he  had  allowance  to  do  it 
of  a  presumptuous  mind ;  or  that  if,  because  a 
child,  by  the  blast  of  the  wind,  or  for  that  it 
stumbled  at  a  stone,  fell  down  and  defiled  it- 
self in  the  mire,  therefore  he  might  wilfully  lie 
down  and  wallow  like  a  boar  therein.     Who 


SKI.F-WIIJ.   IN'   ERIIOM.  o")" 

could  luivc  (Imimiit  that  nuy  one  could  so  far 
have  IxM'U  Minded  hy  the  powcM'  of  lust?  But 
what  is  written  must  l)e  true:  they  'stumble 
at  the  word,  being  disobedient ;  whereunto  also 
'they  were  appointed.''  1  Pet.  2  : 8.  His  sup- 
posing that  such  may  have  the  godly  men's 
virtues,  who  addict  themselves  to  their  vices, 
is  also  a  delusion  as  strong  as  the  other.  To 
eat  up  the  sin  of  God's  people,  Hos.  4  : 8,  as  a 
dog  licks  up  fdth,  is  no  sign  of  one  that  is 
possessed  with  their  virtues.  Xor  can  I  be- 
lieve that  one  who  is  of  this  opinion,  can  at 
present  have  faith  or  love  in  him.  But  I  know 
you  have  made  some  strong  objections  against 
him;  prithee  what  can  he  say  for  himself? 

Hon.  AVliy,  he  says,  to  do  this  by  way  of 
opinion,  seems  abundantly  more  honest  than  to 
do  it,  and  yet  hold  contrary  to  it  in  opinion. 

Great.  A  very  wicked  answer.  For  though 
to  let  loose  the  bridle  to  lusts,  while  our  opin- 
ions are  against  such  things,  is  bad ;  yet,  to  sin 
and  i)lead  a  toleration  so  to  do,  is  worse:  the 
one  stumbles  beholders  accidentally,  the  other 
leads  them  into  the  snare. 

IIox.  There  are  many  of  this  man's  mind, 
that  have  not  this  man's  mouth  :  and  that  makes 
going  on  pilgrimage  of  so  little  esteem  as  it  is. 


558  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

GrREAT.  You  liave  said  the  truth,  and  it  is 
to  be  lamented ;  but  he  that  feareth  the  King 
of  paradise  shall  come  out  of  them  all. 

Chr.  There  are  strange  opinions  in  the 
world.  I  know  one  that  said  it  was  time 
enough  to  repent  when  we  come  to  die. 

Great.  Such  are  not  overwise;  that  man 
would  have  been  loath,  might  he  have  had  a 
week  to  run  twenty  miles  in  his  life,  to  defer 
his  journey  to  the  last  hour  of  that  week. 

Hon.  You  say  right;  and  yet  the  gener- 
ality of  them  who  count  themselves  pilgrims, 
do  indeed  do  thus.  I  am,  as  you  see,  an  old 
man,  and  have  been  a  traveller  in  this  road 
many  a  day ;  and  I  have  taken  notice  of  many 
things.  I  have  seen  some  that  have  set  out  as 
if  they  would  drive  all  the  world  before  them, 
who  yet  have,  in  a  few  days,  died  as  they  in 
the  wilderness,  and  so  never  got  sight  of  the 
promised  land.  I  have  seen  some  that  have 
promised  nothing  at  first  setting  out  to  be  pil- 
grims, and  who  one  would  have  thought  could 
not  have  lived  a  day,  that  have  yet  proved 
very  good  pilgrims.  I  have  seen  some  who 
have  run  hastily  forward,  that  again  have,  after 
a  little  time,  run  just  as  fast  back  again.  I 
have  seen  some  who  have  spoken  very  well  of 


FKAR  OF  TRorni,r-;.  559 

a  pilLTrim's  lii\'  at  first,  that  after  a  while  have 
spoken  as  much  against  it.  I  have  heard  some, 
when  they  first  set  out  for  paradise,  say  posi- 
tively there  is  such  a  place,  who,  when  they 
have  been  almost  there,  have  come  back  again, 
and  said  there  is  none.  I  have  heard  some 
vaunt  what  they  would  do  in  case  they  should 
be  opposed,  that  have,  even  at  a  false  alarm, 
fled  faith,  the  pilgrim's  way,  and  all. 

Xow,  as  they  were  thus  on  their  way.  there 
came  one  running  to  meet  them,  and  said, 
tvo^ubi!*."'"'"*'  '-Gentlemen,  and  you  of  the  weaker 
sort,  if  you  love  life,  shift  for  yourselves,  for 
the  robbers  arc  before  you." 

Then  said  Mr.  Grreat-heart,  "They  be  the 
three  that  set  upon  Little-faith  heretofore. 
resoiutUn'"''' ^Vcll"'  Said  lic,  '■wc  arc  ready  for 
them ;"  so  they  went  on  their  way.  Xow  they 
looked  at  every  turning  when  they  should  have 
met  with  the  villains;  but  whether  they  heard 
of  Mr.  Great-heart,  or  whether  they  had  some 
other  game,  they  came  not  up  to  the  pilgrims. 

Christiana  then  wished  for  an  inn  to  refresh 

Christiana  hcrsclf  aud    her   children,    because 

wishes    lor    an 

'"»•  they  were   weary.     Then  said   Mr. 

Honest,  "There  is  one  a  little  before  us,  where 
a  very  honorable  disciple,  one  Gains,  dwells." 


560  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Rom.  16  :  23.  So  they  all  concluded  to  turn  in 
thither;  and  the  rather,  because  the  old  gen- 
tleman gave  him  so  good  a  report.  When  they 
came  to  the  door  they  went  in,  not  knocking, 
for  folks  use  not  to  knock  at  the  door  of  an 
inn.  Then  they  called  for  the  master  of  the 
house,  and  he  came  to  them.  So  they  asked  if 
they  might  lie  there  that  night. 

"Yes,  gentlemen,'"  said  Gains,  "  if  you  be 

true  men :  for  my  house  is  for  none    Gaius  enter- 
tains them,  and 

but  pilgrims."  Then  were  Christiana,  ^^°^^- 
Mercy,  and  the  boys  the  more  glad,  for  that  the 
innkeeper  was  a  lover  of  pilgrims.  So  they  call- 
ed for  rooms,  and  he  showed  them  one  for  Chris- 
tiana and  her  children  and  Mercy,  and  another 
for  Mr.  Great-heart  and  the  old  gentleman. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "Good  Gaius, 
what  hast  thou  for  supper  ?  for  these  pilgrims 
have  come  far  to-day,  and  are  weary."' 

"It  is  late,"  said  Gaius,  "so  we  cannot 
conveniently  go  out  to  seek  food;  but  such  as 
we  have  3'ou  shall  be  welcome  to,  if  that  will 
content." 

Great.  We  will  be  content  with  what  thou 
hast  in  the  house ;  for  as  much  as  I  have  proved 
thee,  thou  art  never  destitute  of  that  which  is 
convenient. 


C,\]V^  AND  TlIK  riLGunf^^.  561 

Then  lit'  went  down  and  spokt'  to  tlic  cook, 
Gaiusc.H.k.  whose  iiaiue  was  Taste-tliat-wliich-is- 
good,  to  get  ready  supper  for  so  many  pilgrims, 
agahi."""'''' "''  This  (h^iie,  lie  comes  up  again,  say- 
ing, "Come,  my  good  IViends,  you  are  welcome 
to  me,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  a  house  to 
entertain  you  in ;  and  while  supper  is  making 
ready,  if  you  i)lease,  let  us  entertain  one  an- 
other with  some  good  discourse ;''  so  they  all 
said,  "Content." 

Then  said  Gains,  "Whose  wife  is  this  aged 
Talk  between  uiatrou  ?  aud  whosc  daughter  is  this 

Gaius    and    his 

guests.  young  damsel  ? 

Great.  This  woman  is  the  wife  of  one  Chris- 
tian, a  pilgrim  of  former  times ;  and  these  are 
his  four  children.  The  maid  is  one  of  her 
acquaintance,  one  that  she  hath  persuaded  to 
come  with  her  on  pilgrimage.  The  boys  take 
all  after  their  father,  and  covet  to  tread  in  his 
steps ;  yea,  if  they  do  but  see  any  place  where 
the  old  pilgrim  hath  lain,  or  any  print  of  his 
foot,  it  ministereth  joy  to  their  hearts,  and  they 
covet  to  lie  or  tread  in  the  same. 

Then  said  Gains.  "Is  this  Christian's  wife, 
and  are  these  Christian's  children?  I  knew 
an'ces'to;""'"'  y^ur  liusband's  father,  yea,  also  his 
father's  father.     ^lany  have  been  good  of  this 


562  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

stock;  their  ancestors  dwelt  first  at  Antioch, 
Acts  11:26.  Christian's  progenitors  (I  suppose 
you  have  heard  your  husband  talk  of  them) 
were  very  worthy  men.  They  have,  above 
any  that  I  know,  showed  themselves  men  of 
great  virtue  and  courage  for  the  Lord  of  the 
pilgrims,  his  ways,  and  them  that  loved  him- 
I  have  heard  of  many  of  your  -husband's  rela- 
tions that  have  stood  all  trials  for  the  sake  of 
the  truth.  Stephen,  that  was  one  of  the  first  of 
the  family  from-  whence  your  husband  sprang, 
was  knocked  on  the  head  with  stones.  Acts 
7  :  59,  60.  James,  another  of  this  generation j 
was  slain  with  the  edge  of  the  sword.  Acts 
12  :  2.  To  say  nothing  of  Paul  and  Peter,  men 
anciently  of  the  family  from  whence  "your  hus- 
band came,  there  was  Ignatius,  who  was  cast 
to  the  lions ;  Romanus,  whose  flesh  was  cut  by 
pieces  from  his  bones ;  and  Polycarp,  that  play- 
ed the  man  in  the  fire.  There  was  he  that 
was  hanged  up  in  a  basket  in  the  sun  for  the 
wasps  to  eat;  and  he  whom  they  put  into  a 
sack,  and  cast  into  the  sea  to  be  drowned.  It 
would  be  impossible  utterly  to  count  up  all  of 
that  family  who  have  suffered  injuries  and  death 
for  the  love  of  a  pilgrim's  life.  Nor  can  I  but 
be  glad  to  see  that  thy  husband  has  left  behind 


(J  A  I  US-   ADVICK.  003 

liini  foui-  siR'li  boys  as  these.  I  liope  they  will 
bear  iij»  their  father's  name,  and  tread  in  their 
lather's  steps,  and  come  to  their  lather's  end." 

(iREAT.  Indeed,  sir,  they  arc  likely  lads; 
they  seem  to  choose  heartily  their  lather's  ways. 

Gaius.  That  is  it  that  I  said.  AVherefore 
Christian's  family  is  like  still  to  spread  abroad 
npon  the  face  of  the  ground,  and  yet  to  be 
Advice  to  Chris-  numcrous  npon  the  face  of  the  earth ; 

tiiina  about  her 

*>*'y^-  let  Christiana  look  out  some  damsels 

for  her  sons,  to  whom  they  may  be  betrothed, 
etc.,  that  the  name  of  their  father,  and  the 
house  of  his  progenitors,  may  never  be  forgot- 
ten in  the  world. 

Hon.  'T  is  pity  his  family  should  fall  and 
be  extinct. 

"Fall  it  cannot,''  said  Gaius,  "but  be  di- 
minished it  may ;  but  let  Christiana  take  my 
advice,  and  that  is  the  way  to  uphold  it.  And, 
Christiana,"  said  this  innkeeper,  "I  am  glad  to 
see  thee  and  thy  friend  Mercy  together  here, 
a  lovely  couple.  And  if  I  may  advise,  take 
Mercy  into  a  nearer  I'clation  to  thee:  if  she 
will,  let  her  be  given  to  Matthew  thy  eldest: 
A  match  be-  SOU.     It  Is  tlic  wav  to  ])reserve  a 

tween       Mercy 

and  Matthew,  posterity  in  the  earth."  So  this 
mateh  was  concluded,  and  in  process  of  time 


564  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

they  were  married;  but  more   of  that  here- 
after. 

Gains  also  proceeded,  ami  said,  "I  will 
,now  speak  on  the  behalf  of  women,  to  take 
away  their  reproach.  For  as  death  and  the 
curse  came  into  the  world  by  a  woman,  Gen.  3, 
so  also  did  life  and  health;  God  sent  forth 
his  Son,  made  of  a  woman.  Gal.  4  : 4.  Yea, 
to  show  how  much  they  that  came  after  did 
abhor  the  act  of  the  mother,  this  sex  whywomenot 

old  SO  much  de- 

in  the  Old  Testament  coveted  chil-  sired  children. 
dren,  if  happily  this  or  that  woman  might  be 
the  mother  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  I  will 
say  again,  that  when  the  Saviour  was  come, 
women  rejoiced  in  him,  before  either  man  or 
angel.  Luke  1 :  42-4 G.  I  read  not  that  ever 
any  man  did  give  unto  Christ  so  much  as  one 
groat;  but  the  women  followed  him,  and  min- 
istered to  him  of  their  substance.  Luke  8  : 2, 
3.  'T  was  a  woman  that  washed  his  feet  with 
tears,  Luke  7  :  37-50,  and  a  woman  that  anoint- 
ed his  body  to  the  burial,  John  11:2;  12  :  3. 
They  were  women  who  wept  when  he  was  going 
to  the  cross,  Luke  23  :  27,  and  women  that  fol- 
lowed him  from  the  cross,  Matt.  27:55,  56, 
Luke  23:55,  and  that  sat  over  against  his 
sepulchre  when  he  was  buried,  Matt.  27:61. 


THE  SrPPKR.  5G5 

Tliev  were  women  that  were  lir^t  with  him  at 
his  re.surrectiou-inorn,  Luke  24  : 1,  and  women 
that  brought  tidings  first  to  his  disei})les  tliat 
lie  was  risen  from  tlie  dead.  Luke  24  :  22.  2.'). 
Women  therefore  ai-e  liiglily  i'avored,  and  sliuw 
l)y  these  -things  that  they  are  sharers  with  us 
in  the  grace  of  life." 

Now  the  cook  sent  up  to  signify  that  sup- 
supper  ready,  per  was  ahuost  Tcadv,  and  sent  one 
to  ky  the  cloth,  and  the  trenchers,  and  to  set 
the  salt  and  bread  in  order. 

Then  said  Matthew,  "The  sight  of  this 
cloth,  and  of  this  forerunner  of  the  supper,  be- 
getteth  in  me  a  greater  appetite  to  my  lood 
than  I  had  before." 

Gaius.  So  let  all  ministering  doctrines  to 
thee  in  this  life  beget  in  thee  a  greater  desire 
to  sit  at  the  supper  of  the  great  King  in  his 
kingdom ;  for  all  preaching,  books,  and  ordinan- 
ces here,  are  but  as  the  laying  of  the  trench- 
what  istobe  crs,  and  the  setting  of  salt  upon  the 

patlK-red     from  '  ~  ^ 

S'wfth't'he  board,  when  compared  with  the  feast 

cloth  and  tren  . 

Chens.  which   our   Lord   will   make   lor  us 

when  we  come  to  his  house. 

So  supper  came  up.  And  first  a  heave- 
shoulder  and  a  wave-breast  were  set  on  the 
table  before  them,  to  show  that  they  must  be- 


566  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

gin  their  meal  with  prayer  and  praise  to  God. 
The  heave-shonlder  David  lifted  up  his  heart 
to  God  with ;  and  with  the  wave-breast,  where 
his  heart  lay,  he  used  to  lean  upon  his  harp 
when  he  played.  Lev.  7:32-34;  10:14,  15; 
Psa.  25:1;  Heb.  13:15.  These  two  dishes 
were  very  fresh  and  good,  and  they  all  ate 
heartily  thereof. 

The  next  they  brought  up  was  a  bottle  of 
wine,  as  red  as  blood.  Deut.  32  :14;  Judges 
9:13;  John  15:5.  So  Gains  said  to  them, 
"Drink  freely;  this  is  the  true  juice  of  the 
vine,  that  makes  glad  the  heart  of  God  and 
man."     So  they  drank  and  were  merry. 

The  next  was  a  dish  of  milk  well  crumbed ; 
jGaius  said,  "Let  the  boys  have  that,  a  dish  of  muk. 
that  they  may  grow  thereby."     1  Pet.  2:1,  2. 

Then  they  brought  up  in  course  a  dish  of 
butter  and  honey.  Then  said  Gains,  buuer.°"'' '"^ 
"Eat  freely  of  this,  for  this  is  good  to  cheer 
up  and  strengthen  your  judgments  and  under- 
standings. This  was  our  Lord's  dish  Avhen  he 
was  a  child :  '  Butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat, 
that  he  may  know  to  refuse  the  evil,  and  choose 
the  good.'  "     Isa.  7  :  15. 

Then  they  brought  them  up  a  disli  ,A  ^'^"^ '''  "P" 
of  apples,  and  they  were  very  good-tasted  fruit. 


AI'IM.KS    AND   NlTf^.  •'<>' 

Thou  said  Matthew.  -May  wo  eat  apples,  since 
it  was  such  by  and  witii  whicli  the  serpent  be- 
o-uiled  our  first  mother?"' 
Then  said  Gains, 

•'Apples  were  they  with  whieh  we  were  beguiled; 
Yet  sin,  not  apples,  hath  our  souls  defiled : 
Apples  forbid,  if  ate,  corrupt  the  blood  ; 
To  eat  such,  when  commanded,  does  us  good : 
Drink  of  his  flagons  then,  thou  church,  his  dove, 
And  eat  his  apples,  who  art  sick  of  love." 

Then  said  :\[attliew,  "I  made  the  scruple, 
because  I  a  while  since  was  sick  with  the  eat- 
ing of  fruit."' 

Gar-s.  Forbidden  fruit  will  make  you  sick ; 
but  not  what  our  Lord  has  tolerated. 

While  they  were  thus  talking,  they  were 
A  dish  of  nut.,  presented  with  another  dish,  and  it 
wjis  a  dish  of  nuts.  Song  6:11.  Then  said 
some  at  the  table,  "  Xuts  spoil  tender  teeth, 
especially  the  teeth  of  children ;"'  which  when 
Gains  heard,  he  said, 

'•Hard  texts  are  nuts,  (I  will  not  call  them  cheaters,) 
^Vhose  shells  do  keep  their  kernels  from  the  eaters: 
Open  the  shells,  and  you  shall  have  the  meat; 
Thev  here  are  brought  fur  yuu  to  crack  and  eat." 

Then  were  they  very  merry,  and  sat  at  the 
table  a  long  time,  talking  of  many  things.  Then 
said  the  old  avntloman.    'My  n'ood  landlord, 


568  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

while  we  are  cracking  your  nuts,  if  you  please, 
do  you  open  this  riddle : 

" Amantherewas.thoua-hsomcdidcounthimmad,     ^  riddle  put 
llie  more  he  cast  away,  tiio  more  he  had.  Honest. 

'  Then  they  all  gave  good  heed,  wondering 
what  good  Gains  would  say ;  so  he  sat  still  a 
while,. and  then  thus  replied: 

"He  who  bestows  his  goods  upon  the  poor, 
ai    11  1  1  •  IX,-  „     Gaius  opens  it. 

Shall  have  as  much  again,  and  ten  times  more. 

Then  said  Joseph,  "I  dare  say,  sir,  I  did 
not  think  you  could  have  found  it  Jr^^^'  ''""" 
out." 

"Oh,"  said  Gains,  "I  have  been  trained  up 
in  this  way  a  great  while ;  nothing  teaches  like 
experience.  I  have  learned  of  my  Lord  to  be 
kind,  and  have  found  by  experience  that  I  have 
gained  thereby.  There  is  that  scattereth,  and 
yet  increaseth ;  and  there  is  that  withholdeth 
more  than  is  meet,  but  it  tendeth  to  poverty. 
There  is  that  maketh  himself  rich,  yet  hath 
nothing;  there  is  that  maketh  himself  poor,  yet 
hath  great  riches."     Prov.  11 :  24 ;  13:7. 

Tlien  Samuel  whispered  to  Christiana  his 
mother,  and  said,  "Mother,  this  is  a  very  good 
man's  house;  let  us  stay  here  a  good  while, 
and  let  my  brother  Matthew  be  married  here 
to  Mercy,  before  we  go  any  further."     The 


CIJHAT-HKAKTS    KIDnLK.  509 

-which  (Jaiiis  llie  liost  overhearing,  said,  "With 
a  very  good  will,  my  cliild."' 

So  they  stayed  there  more  than  a  month, 
Mm";"ui^kT'  and  Mercy  was  givtMi  to  ^[atthew  to 
wile.  While  they  stayed  here,  Mercy,  as  her 
custom  was,  would  be  making  coats  and  gar- 
ments to  give  to  the  poor,  by  which  she  brought 
a  very  good  report  u})on  the  pilgrims. 

But  to  return  again  to  our  story.  After 
The  boys  po  sup])er  thc  lads  desired  a  bed,  for 

to  bed,  the  rest         ^  ^ 

situp.  {]^Qy   ^vere    weary    with    travelling. 

Then  Gains  called  to  show  them  their  cham- 
ber; but  said  Mercy,  "I  Avili  have  them  to 
bed."  r^o  she  had  them  to  bed,  and  they  slept 
well:  but  the  rest  sat  up  all  night;  for  Gains 
and  they  were  such  suitable  company,  that  they 
could  not  tell  how  to  part.  After  nuich  talk 
of  their  Lord,  themselves,  and  their  journey, 
old  Mr.  Honest,  he  that  i)ut  forth  the  riddle  to 

^Old      Honest   Q^^^^^      ^^„^^^      ^^      j^^^l  rpj^^^^^      ^.^j^^ 

Great-heart,  "What,  sir,  you  begin  to  be 
drowsy?  come,  rub  up  now,  here  is  a  riddle 
'for  you."  Then  said  ^Ir.  Honest,  "Let  us 
hear  it."     Then  replied  Mr.  Great-heart, 

'^''  ''^'^^  wouM  kill,  must  first  be  overcome : 
Who  live  iibioad  would,  first  must  die  at  home." 

"Ha,''  saitl  ^Fr.  Honest,  "it  is  a  hard  one; 


570  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

hard  to  expound,  and  harder  to  practise.  But 
come,  landlord,"  said  he,  "I  will,  if  you  please, 
leave  my  part  to  you;  do  you  expound  it,  and 
I  will  hear  Avhat  you  say." 

"No,"  said  Gains,  "it  was  put  to  you,  and 
it  is  expected  you  should  answer  it."  Then 
said  the  old  gentleman, 

"He  first  by  grace  must  conquered  be, 

That  sin  would  mortify ;  xhe       riddle 

Who  that  lie  lives  would  convince  me,    opened. 
Unto  himself  must  die." 

"It  is  right,"  said  Grains;  "good  doctrine 
and  experience  teach  this.  For,  first,  until 
grace  displays- itself,  and  overcomes  the  soul 
with  its  gloiT,  it  is  altogether  without  heart  to 
oppose  sin.  Besides,  if  sin  is  Satan's  cords  by 
which  the  soul  lies  bound,  how  should  it  make 
resistance  before  it  is  loosed  from  that  infirmi- 
ty? Secondly,  nor  will  any  one  that  knows 
either  reason  or  grace,  believe  that  such  a  man 
can  be  a  living  monument  of  grace  that  is  a 
slave  to  his  own  corruptions.     And    a    question 

worth  the  mind- 

now  it  comes  into  my  mind,  I  will  >"^ 
tell  3^ou  a  story  worth  the  hearing.  There 
were  two  men  that  went  on  pilgrimage;  the 
one  began  when  he  Avas  young,  the  other  when 
he  was  old.  The  young  man  had  strong  cor- 
ruptions to  grapple  with ;  the  old  man's  were 


IIONE<Trf  IIKI'LY.  571 

weak  witli  the  decays  of  nature.  Tlie  youii<;- 
man  trod  his  ste|)s  as  even  as  did  the  old  one, 
and  was  every  way  as  light  as  he.  Who  now, 
or  which  of  them,  had  their  graces  shining 
clearest,  since  both  seemed  to  be  alike  ?'' 

Hox.  The  young  man's,  doubtless.  For 
A  comparison,  that  wluch  makcs  head  against  the 
greatest  opposition,  gives  best  demonstration 
that  it  is  strongest;  especially  when  it  also 
holdeth  pace  with  that  which  meets  not  with 
half  so  much,  as  to  be  sure  old  age  docs  not. 
Besides,  I  have  observed  that  old  men  have 
A  mistake,  blcsscd  themsclvcs  with  this  mistake : 
namely,  taking  the  decays  of  nature  for  a  gra- 
cious conquest  over  corruptions,  and  so  have 
been  apt  to  beguile  themselves.  Indeed,  old 
men  that  are  gracious  are  best  able  to  give 
advice  to  them  that  are  young,  because  they 
have  seen  most  of  the  emptiness  of  things:  but 
yet,  for  an  old  and  a  young  man  to  set  out 
both  together,  the  young  one  has  the  advan- 
tage of  the  fairest  discovery  of  a  work  of  grace 
within  him.  though  the  old  man's  corrujitions 
are  naturally  the  weakest. 

Thus  they  .sat  talking  till  break  (jf  day. 

Now,  w^hen  the  family  were  uj),  Christiana 
Ijid  her  son  James  that  he  should  read  a  chap- 


572  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


ter;  SO  lie  read  the  fifty-third  of  Isaiah.  When 
he  had  done,  Mr.  Honest  asked  why  tio^r""''"''' 
it  was  said  that  the  Saviour  was  to  come  "out 
of  a  dry  ground;"  and  also,  that  "he  had  no 
form  nor  comeliness  in  him.'' 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  ' '  To  the  first  I 
answer,  because  the  church  of  the  Jews,  of 
which  Christ  came,  had  then  lost  almost  all  the 
sap  and  spirit  of  religion.  To  the  second  I 
say,  the  words  are  spoken  in  the  person  of 
unbelievers,  who,  because  the}^  want  the  eye 
that  can  see  into  our  Prince's  heart,  therefore 
they  judge  of  him  by  the  meanness  of  his  out- 
side; just  like  those  who,  not  knowing  that 
precious  stones  are  covered  over  with  a  home- 
ly ci'ust,  when  they  have  found  one,  because 
they  know  not  what  they  have  found,  cast  it 
away  again,  as  men  do  a  common  stone." 

"Well,"  said  Gains,  "now  you  are  here, 
and  since,  as  I  know,  Mr.  Great-heart  is  good 
at  his  weapons,  if  you  please,  after  we  have 
refreshed  ourselves,  we  will  walk  into  the 
fields,  to  see  if  we  can  do  any  good.  About  a 
mile  from  hence  there  is  one  Slay-good,  a  giant, 
that  doth  much  annoy  the  King's  highway  in 
these  parts ;  and  I  know  whereabout  his  haunt 
is.     He   is   master  of  a   number  of  thieves; 


SLAY-COOI)  ATTACKED.  5(3 

"t  would  !)('  well  if  wo  could  clcnf  (hi'se  jtarts 
of  jiiiu."" 

t^o  tliev  coiiseiitod  and  went:  Mr.  Great- 
heart  with  his  sword,  liehnet,  and  shield;  and 
the  rest  with  spears  and  staves. 

TTlien  they  eanie  to  the  place  wliere  lie 

Giant Slaygood  ^yj^^,    ^|jpy  f,)ii]|,|  liim  y;\[\i  one  Feeble- 
round  with  CHIC  ' 
Feeble -mind  in         •      t    •       i   •      i  i  i  i    •  , 

hishand.  iiiiud  111  lus  luuid.  wlioiii  lus  servants 
had  brought  niito  him,  having  taken  liini  in  the 
way.  Xow  the  giant  was  rifling  him,  with  a 
purpose  after  that  to  jnck  his  bones;  for  he 
was  of  the  nature  of  flesh-eaters. 

AVell,  so  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Great-heart 
and  his  friends  at  the  mouth  of  his  cave,  with 
their  weajions,  he  demanded  what  they  wanted. 

Great.  AVe  want  thee;  for  we  are  come  to 
revenge  the  c|uarrels  of  the  many  that  thou  hast 
slain  of  the  pilgiims,  when  thou  hast  dragged 
them  out  of  the  King's^  highwa}' :  wherefore 
come  out  of  thy  cave. 

So  he  armed  himself  and  came  out,  and  to 
battle  they  went,  and  fought  for  above  an  hour, 
and  then  stood  still  to  take  wind. 

Then  said  the  giant.  "AVhy  are  you  here 
on  my  ground  ?" 

Great.  To  revenge  the  blood  of  j)ilgrims, 
as  T  told  thee  before. 


574  rTi.r; RIM'S  progress. 

So  tliey  went  to  it  again,  and  the  giant 
made  Mr.  Great-heart  give  back ;  but  he  came 
up  again,  and  in  the  greatness  of  his  mind  lie 
let   fly  with  such  stoutness  at  the     The     giant 

assaulted      and 

giant's  head  and  sides,  that  he  made  '•''*" 
him  let  his  weapon  fall  out  of  his  hand.  So 
he  smote  him,  and  slew  him,  and  cut  off  his 
head,  and  brought  it  away  to  the  inn.  He 
also  took  Feeble-mind  the  pilgrim,  and  brought 
him  with  him  to  his  lodgings.  When  they  were 
come  home,  they  showed  his  head  to  the  fam- 
ily, and  set  it  up,  as  thej^  had  done  others  be- 
fore, for  a  terror  to  those  that  should  attempt 
to  do  as  he  hereafter. 

Then  they  asked  Mr.  Feeble-mind  how  he 
fell  into  his  hands. 

Then  said  the  poor  man,  "I  am  a  sickly 
man,  as  you  see ;  and  because  death  did  usual- 
ly once  a  day  knock  at  my  door,  I  thought  I 
should  never  be  well  at  home :  so  I    now  Feebie. 

mind    came    to 

betook  myself  to  a  pilgrim's  life,  and  beapiignm. 
have  travelled  hither  from  the  town  of  Uncer- 
tain, where  I  and  my  father  were  born.  I  am 
a  man  of  no  strength  at  all  of  bod}^,  nor  yet  of 
mind ;  but  wT)uld,  if  I  could,  though  I  can  but 
crawl,  spend  my  life  in  the  pilgrim's  way. 
When  I  came  at  the  2;ate  that  is  at  the  head 


F  !•:  i:  r.  1. 1-: -  m  i  x  i > •  s  k \  v  k  \i  i  e x c  i: .        '>!'> 

of  the  way.  tho  Lord  of  that  jdacc  did  ciitci- 
taiii  1110  tVccly  :  neither  objected  he  against  my 
weakly  looks,  nor  against  my  feeble  mind,  but 
gave  me  such  things  jis  were  necessary  for  my, 
journey,  and  bid  me  h()])e  to  the  end.  AVheu 
I  came  to  the  house  of  the  lnteri)reter,  I  iv- 
ceived  much  kindness  there;  and  because  the 
hill  of  Difliculty  was  judged  too  hard  for  me,  I 
was  carried  up  that  by  one  of  his  servants. 
Indeed,  I  have  found  much  relief  from  pilgrims, 
though  none  were  willing  to  go  so  softly  as  T 
am  forced  to  do :  yet  still,  as  they  came  on  they 
bid  me  be  of  good  cheer,  and  said  that  it  w^as 
the  will  of  their  Lord  that  comfort  should  be 
given  to  the  feeble-minded,  1  Thess.  5  :  14 ;  and 
so  went  on  their  ow'u  pace.  When  I  was  come 
to  Assault-lane,  then  this  giant  met  with  me, 
and  bid  me  i)repare  for  an  encounter.  But, 
alas,  feeble  one  that  I  was,  I  had  more  need  of 
a  cordial ;  so  he  came  up  and  took  me.  I  con- 
ceited he  Avould  not  kill  me.  Also  when  he 
had  got  me  into  his  den,  since  I  went  not  with 
him  willingly,  I  believed  I  should  come  out 
alive  again;  for  I  have  heard,  that  not  any 
Mark  this!  pilgrim  that  is  taken  captive  by  vio- 
lent hands,  if  he  keeps  heartwhole  towards  his 
Master,  is,  by  the  laws  of  providence,  to  die 


576  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

by  the  liaiid  of  the  eiiemj'.  Eobbed  I  looked 
to  be,  and  robbed  to  be  sure  I  am ;  but  I  Iiave, 
as  you  see,  escaped  with  life,  for  the  which  I 
thank  my  King  as  the  ai]J:hor,  and  you  as  the 
means.  Other  brunts  I  also  look  for;  but  this 
I  have  resolved  on,  to  wit,  to  run  Mark  tins: 
when  I  can,  to  go  when  I  cannot  run,  and  to 
creep  when  I  cannot  go.  As  to  the  main,  I 
thank  Him  that  loved  me,  I  am  fixed ;  my  way 
is  before  me,  my  mind  is  beyond  the  river  that 
has  no  bridge,  though  I  am,  as  you  see,  but  of 
a  feeble  mind."' 

Then  said  old  Mr.  Honest,  "Have  not  you, 
some  time  ago,  been  acquainted  with  one  Mr. 
Fearing,  a  pilgrim  ?" 

Feeble.  Acquainted  with  him?  yes;  he 
came  from  the  town  of  Stupidity,  which  lieth 
four  degrees  to  the  northward  of  the  cit}'  of 
Destruction,  and  as  many  off  of  where  I  was 
born:  yet  we  were  well  acquainted,    Mr   rearing 

is    Mr     Feeble- 

for  indeed  he  was  my  uncle,  mj^  fa-  ""ndsuncie. 
ther's  brother.     He  and  I  have  been  much  of 
a  temper;  he  was  a  little  shorter  than  I,  but 
yet  we  were  much  of  a  complexion. 

Hon.  I  perceive  you  knew  him,  has^omiorMr"^ 
and  I  am  apt  to  believe  also  that  you  tm%T^ ' 
were  related  one  to  another ;  for  you  have  his 


NOT-RIGHT   r^THUCK    UKAl)  f.TT 

wliitoly  look,  a  cast  like  liis  with  your  eye,  and 
your  speecli  is  iiiucli  alike. 

Feeble.  Most  have  said  so,  that  have  known 
us  both;  and  besides,  what  I  have  read  in  liim 
I  have  for  the  most  i)art  found  in  myself. 

''Come,  sir,"'  said  good  Gains,  "be  of  good 
^Gaiusccnforts  ^^^^^^. .  ^.^^^  ^^,^  welcomc  to  mo,  and 

to  my  house.  What  thou  hast  a  mind  to,  call 
for  freely ;  and  what  thou  wonkiest  have  my 
servants  do  for  thee,  they  will  do  it  with  a 
ready  mind." 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,   "This  is  an 

unexpected  favor,  and  as  the  sun  shining  out 

of  a  very  dark  cloud.    Did  giant  Slay-good  in- 

xoticc  to  be  tend  me  this  favor  when  he  stopped 

taken  of  provi  ^  '■ 

dcnce.  j^-,p    r^jjfi  resolved  to  let  me  go  no 

further?  Did  lie  intend,  that  after  he  had  rifled 
my  pockets  I  should  go  to  Gains  my  host? 
Yet  so  it  is."' 

Now,  just  as  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Gains 

on™'"ft  S  ^^'^^'G  ^^^"'"^  ill  ^^^^^^  t^i^i'G  came  one 
thundeXit.^  *  running,  and  called  at  the  door,  and 
said,  that  about  a  mile  and  a  half  off  there  was 
one  Mr.  Xot-right,  a  pilgrin^,  struck  dead  njjon 
the  placcTwhere  he  was,  with  a  thunderbolt. 
Mr    Feeble-        "Alas,"  Said  Mr.  Feeble-mind, 

mind     remarks 

upon  it.  '^\^  jje  gij^in  7    He  overtook  me  some 


.")7S  PTLOp.TAfs  rr;  on  REPS'. 

(lavs  before  I  came  so  far  as  hither,  and  would 
l)e  my  company-keeper.  He  was  also  with  me 
when  Slay -good  the  giant  took  me,  but  he  was 
nimble  of  his  heels,  and  escaped;  but  it  seems 
he  escaped  to  die,  and  I  w^as  taken  to  liye." 

"  Ayiiat  one  would  tliiuk  dotli  seek  to  slay  outright, 
Ofttinies  delivers  from  the  saddest  plight. 
That  very  providence  whose  face  is  death, 
Doth  ofttimes  to  the  lowly  life  bequeath. 
I  taken  Avas,  he  did  escape  and  flee ; 
Hands  crossed  gave  death  to  him  and  life  to  me." 

Now^,  about  this  time  Matthew  and  Mercy 
were  married;  also  Gains  gaye  his  daughter 
Phebe  to  James,  Matthew's  brother,  to  wife; 
after  which  time  they  yet  stayed  about  ten 
days  at  G-aius'  house,  spending  their  time  and 
the  seasons  like  as  pilgrims  use  to  do. 

When  they  were  to  depart,  Gains  made 
them  a  feast,  and  they  did  eat  and  drink,  and 
were  merry.      Xow  the    hour  was    The  pilgrims 

'  prepare     to    go 

come  that  they  must  be  gone ;  wdiere-  for^^'J 
fore  Mr.  Great-heart  called  for  a  reckoning. 
But  Gaius  told  him,  that  at  his  house  it  was 
not  the  custom  for  pilgrims  to  pay  for  their 
entertainment.  He  boarded  them  by  the  year, 
but  looked  for  his  pay  from  the  good  Samari- 
tan, wdio  had  promised  him,  at  his  return, 
whatsoeyer  charge  he  was  at  with  them,  faith- 


F  K  K  H  I.  K- M  I  \  I)  S    IX  F  1  I!  M  I T  V .  'u'd 

iully  to  repay  liim.  Luke  10:34,  35.  Then 
saifl  -Mr.  ( Jreat-lieart  to  liiiii, 

•  lieloved,  thou  doost  laitlifully  whatsoever 
ihnv tiuy greet  thou  doest  to  tlic  brethren,  and  to 

one  another  at 

parting.  straHgeFS,  who  liave  borne  witness  of 

thy  charity  before  the  church ;  wdioni  if  thou 
yet  bring  forward  on   their  journey  after   a 
godly  sort,  thou  shalt  do  well."     3  John  5,  G. 
Tlien  Gains  took  his  leave  of  them  all,  and 
Gaius-     last  his  childrcu,  and  particularly  of  Mr. 

kindness  to  Fee 

biemind.  Feeble-uiind.  He  also  gave  hnn 
something  to  driidv  by  the  way. 

Xow  ^Ir.  Feeble-mind,  when  they  were 
going  out  of  the  door,  made  as  if  he  intended 
to  linger.  The  which  when  Mr.  Great-heart 
espied,  he  said,  "Come,  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  pray 
do  you  go  along  with  us;  I  will  be  your  con- 
ductor, and  you  shall  fare  as  the  rest." 

Feeble.  Alas,  I  want  a  suitable  compan- 
ion.    Yon  are  all  lusty  and  strong,  but  I,  as 

Feeble-mind  you  scc,  aiu  wcak ;  I  choosc,  there- 
for  going    be- 
hind, fore,  rather  to  come  behind,  lest,  by 

reason  of  my  many  intirmities,   I  should  be 

a  burden  both  to  myself  and  to  you.     I  am,  as 

I  said,  a  man  of  a  weak  and  feeble  mind,  and 

ex^cuSI?.'*''  shall  b(^  offended  and  made  weak  at 

that  whieh  others'  can  bear.     T  shall   like  no 


580  PILCxRIM'tf  PROGRESS. 

laughing;  I  shall  like  no  gay  attire;  I  shall 
like  no  nnprofitable  questions.  Nay,  I  am  so 
weak  a  man  as  to  be  offended  with  that  which 
others  have  a  liberty  to  do.  I  do  not  yet 
know  all  the  truth ;  I  am  a  very  ignorant  Chris- 
tian man.  Sometimes,  if  I  hear  some  rejoice 
in  the  Lord,  it  troubles  me  because  I  cannot 
do  so  too.  It  is  with  me  as  it  is  with  a  weak 
man  among  the  strong,  or  as  with  a  sick  man 
among  the  healthy,  or  as  a  lamp  despised ;  so 
that  I  know  not  what  to  do.  "He  that  is  ready 
to  slip  with  his  feet  is  as  a  lamp  despised  in 
the  thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease."    Job  12:5. 

"But,  brother,"  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "I 
have  it  in  commission  to  comfort  the  commi^sion^'"'  ^ 
feeble-minded,  and  to  support  the  weak.  You 
must  needs  go  along  Avith  us ;  we  Avill  wait  for 
you;  we  will  lend  you  our  help;  we  spnit/'""""'" 
Avill  deny  ourselves  of  some  things,  bofli  opin- 
ionative  and  practical,  for  3'our  sake ;  we  will 
not  enter  into  doubtful  disputations  before  you ; 
we  will  be  made  all  .'hings  to  you,  rather  than 
you  shall  be  left  behind."  1  Thess.  5:14;  Rom. 
14;  iCor.  8:9-13;  9:22. 

Now,  all  this  while  they  were  at  Gains' 
door;  and  behold,  as  they  were  thus  in  the 
heat    of   their    discourse,    Mr.    Ready-to-halt 


Fi:i;i!I,K-Ml-\I>'S   Ct'.M  I'ANIOX.  581 

came  by.  with  his  crutehes  iii  his  hand,  and 
he  also  was  goinii:  on  pilgrimage. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind  to  him,  "Man, 

hcnv  eamest  thon  hither?     I  was  bnt  now  com- 

]>huning  that  I  had  not  a  suital)le  e(>m})ani()n, 

Feeble  min.i  jj^jj;  ^hon  art  aecordlng  to  mv  wish. 

glad     to     see  <^  * 

ucaayto-hait  ^y^q^.^^^^,  welcome,  good  Mr.  Keady- 
to-halt :  I  hope  thon  and  I  may  be  some  help." 

"I  shall  be  glad  of  thy  company,''  said 
Pteady-to-halt ;  "and,  good  Mr.  Feeble-mind, 
rather  than  we  will  part,  since  we  are  thns  hap- 
l)ily  met,  I  will  lend  thee  one  of  my  crntches." 

■Xay."  said  ^Mr.  Feeble-mind,  "though  I 
thank  thee  for  thy  good-will,  I  am  not  inclined 
to  halt  before  I  am  lame.  Howbeit,  I  think, 
wdien  occasion  is,  it  may  help  me  against  a  dog.'' 

Ready.  If  either  myself  or  my  crutches 
can  do  thee  a  pleasure,  we  are  both  at  thy 
command,  good  Mr.  Feeble-mind. 

Thus,  therefore,  they  went  on.  ^Ir.  Great- 
heart  and  Mr.  Honest  went  before,  Christiana 
and  her  children  went  next,  and  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind  came  behind,  and  ^Mr.  Ready-to-halt  with 
his  crutches.     Then  said  Mr.  Honest, 

"  Pray,  sir,  now  we  arc  upon  the  road,  tell 
New  talk  us  some  profitable  things  of  some  that 
have  gone  on  i)ilgr image  Ix'fore  us." 


582  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Great.  With  a  good  will.  I  suppose  you 
have  heard  how  Christian  of  old  did  meet  with 
Apoll3^on  ill  the  valley  of  Humiliation,  and 
also  what  hard  work  he  had  to  go  through  the 
valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  Also  I  think 
you  cannot  but  have  heard  how  Faithful  was 
put  to  it  by  Madam  Wanton,  Avith  Adam  the 
First,  with  one  Discontent,  and  Shame;  four 
as  deceitful  villains  as  a  man  can  meet  with 
upon  the  road. 

Hon.  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  all  this;  but 
indeed,  good  Faithful  was  hardest  put  to  it  with 
Shame ;  he  was  an  unwearied  one. 

G-REAT.  Aye ;  for,  as  the  pilgrim  well  said, 
he  of  all  men  had  the  wrong  name. 

Hon.  But  pra}^,  sir,  where  was  it  that 
Christian  and  Faithful  met  Talkative?  That 
same  w^as  also  a  notable  one. 

Great.  He  was  a  confident  fool ;  yet  many 
follow  his  ways. 

Hon.  He  had  like  to  have  beguiled  Faith- 
ful. 

Great.  Aye,  but  Christian  put  him  into  a 
Avay  quickly  to  find  him  out. 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the 
place  where  Evangelist  met  with  Christian  and 
Faithful,  and  prophesied  to  them  what  should 


TALK   ABOUT   I'l  IJJ  11I.M«.  583 

betall  them  at  Vanity  fair.  Then  said  their 
guide.  "Hereabouts  did  Christian  and  Faith- 
ful meet  with  Evangelist,  who  prophesied  to 
them  of  what  troubles  they  should  meet  witli 
at  Vanity  fair." 

Hon.  Say  you  so?  I  dare  say  it  was  a 
bard  chapter  that  then  he  did  read  unto  them. 

Great.  It  was  so,  but  lie  gave  them  en- 
couragement withal.  But  what  do  we  talk  of 
them  ?  They  were  a  couple  of  lion-like  men  ; 
they  had  set  their  faces  like  a  flint.  Do  not 
you  rememl)er  how  undaunted  they  were  when 
they  stood  before  the  judge  ? 

IIox.  AVell:  Faithful  bravely  suffered. 

Great.  So  he  did,  and  as  brave  things 
came  on't;  for  Hopeful,  and  some  others,  as 
the  story  relates  it,  were  converted  by  his 
death. 

Hox.  Well,  but  pray  go  on ;  for  you  arc 
well  acquainted  with  things. 

Great.  Above  all  that  Christian  met  witli 
after  he  had  passed  through  Vanity  fair,  one 
By-ends  was  the  arch  one. 

Hon.  By-ends?  what  was  he? 

Great.  A  very  arch  fellow,  a  downrigiil 
hypocrite ;  one  that  would  be  religious  which- 
ever wav  the  world  went,  but  so  cunnin":  that 


584  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

he  would  be  sure  never  to  lose  or  suffer  for  it. 
He  had  his  mode  of  religion  for  every  fresh 
occasion,  and  his  wife  was  as  good  at  it  as  he. 
He  would  turn  from  opinion  to  opinion;  yea, 
and  plead  for  so  doing  too.  But,  so  far  as  I 
could  learn,  he  came  to  an  ill  end  with  his  by- 
ends  ;  nor  did  I  ever  hear  that  -any  of  his  chil- 
dren were  ever  of  any  esteem  with  any  that 
truly  feared  God. 

Now  by  this  time  they  were  come  within 
sisfht  of  the  town  of  Yanitv,  where    xhey    come 

"^  '  within  sii;lit  of 

Vanity  fair  is  kept.  So,  when  they  Canity  fair. 
saw  that  they  were  so  near  the  town,  they  con- 
sulted with  one  another  how  they  should  pass 
through  the  town;  and  some  said  one  thing, 
and  some  another.  At  last  Mr.  G-reat-heart 
said,  "I  have,  as  you  may  understand,  often 
been  a  conductor  of  pilgrims  through  this  town. 
Now,  I  am  acquainted  with  one  Mr.  Mnason, 
Acts  21:1G,  a  Cyprusian  by  nation,  dn  old 
disciple,  at  whose  house  we  may  lodge.  If 
you  think  good,  we  will  turn  in  there."' 

"Content,"  said  old  Honest;  "Content," 
said  Christiana;  "Content,"  said  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind;  and  so  they  said  all.  Now  you  must 
think  it  was  eventide  by  that  they  got  to  the 
outside  of  the  town ;  but  Mr.  Great-heart  knew 


E  X  T  K 11 T  A  I  N  K  I  •    I".  V   .M  11 .   M  X  A  .<0  X .         585 

the  way  to  tlic  old  inaii's  lioiiso.  So  tliitlior 
tlicy  ciiiiio:  and  lie  called  at.  the  door,  aiul  the 
old  man  within  knew  his  tongue  as  soon  as 
Tuoj- enter  into  evei"  lic  heafd  it:  so  he  opened  the 

one    >lr.    Mna-  . 

sons  to  lodge,  (jooi',  and  they  all  eanie  m.  i  lieu 
said  ^Inason  their  host,  "  IIow  far  have  ye 
come  to-day  ?"  So  they  said,  "From  the  house 
of  Gains  our  friend."'  "I  promise  you,"  said 
lie,  '"you  have  g-one  a  good  stitch.  You  may 
well  l)e  weary ;  sit  down."'     So  they  sat  down. 

Then  said  their  guide,  "Come,  what  cheer, 
good  sirs  ?  I  dare  say  you  are  welcome  to  my 
friend.*' 

"I  also,""  said  Mr.  ^Inason,  "do  bid  you 
welcome ;  and  whatever  you  want,  do  but  say, 
and  we  will  do  what  we  can  to  get  it  for 
you."' 

IIox.  Our  great  want,  a  wdiile  since,  w^as 
They  are  glad  harbor  and  good  comi)any,  and  now 

of       entertain- 
ment. J  hope  we  have  both. 

^[XA.  For  harbor,  you  see  what  it  is;  but 
for  good  company,  that  will  appear  in  the  trial. 

"Well,"'  said  Mr  Great-heart,  "will  you 
have  the  pilgrims  np  into  their  lodging  ?" 

"T  will,"  said  Mr.  Miiason.  So  he  had 
them  to  their  respective- plaees;  and  also  show- 
ed them  a  verv  fair  dining-room,  where  they 


586"  riLGRIM'S  rrvOGRESS. 

might  be,  and  sup  together  until  the  time  should 
come  to  go  to  rest. 

Kow,  when  they  were  seated  in  their  places, 
and  were  a  little  cheery  after  their  journey. 
Mr.  Honest  asked  his  landlord  if  there  was  any 
store  of  good  people  in  the  town. 

Mna.  We  have  a  few ;  for  indeed  they  are 
but  a  few  when  compared  with  them  on  the 
other  side. 

Hon.  But  how  shall  we  do  to  see  some  of 
them  ?  for  the  sight  of  good  men  to  J'lZfot-Ml 
them  that  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  fhe'lown.^'^''  ""^ 
is  like  the  appearing  of  the  moon  and  stars  to 
them  that  are  sailing  upon  the  seas. 

Then  Mr.  Mnason  stamped  with  his  foot, 
and  his  daughter  Grace  came  up.  So  he  said 
unto  her,  "Grace,  go  you,  tell  my  some  sent  for. 
friends,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy-man,  Mr.  Love- 
saints,  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and  Mr.  Penitent,  that 
I  have  a  friend  or  two  at  my  house  who  have 
a  mind  this  evening  to  see  them."'  So  Grace 
went  to  call  them,  and  they  came ;  and  after 
salutation  made,  they  sat  down  together  at  the 
table. 

Then  said  Mr.  Mnason  their  landlord,  "My 
neighbors,  I  have,  as  you  see,  a  company  of 
strangers  come  to  my  house :  they  are  pilgrims ; 


TUWN    UV    VANITV.  587 

they  come  I'nmi  afar,  and  arc  going  to  Mount 
Zion.  ?>ut  who."'  <iuotli  lie,  '"do  you  think  this 
is?'"  pointing  his  linger  to  Christiana.  "It  is 
Christiana,  tlie  wile  of  Christian,  the  famous 
pilgrim,  -who,  witli  Faithful  his  brother,  was  so 
shamefully  handled  in  our  town.''  At  that  they 
stood  amazed,  saying,  "We  little  thought  to 
see  Christiana  when  Grace  came  to  call  us; 
wherefore  this  is  a  very  comfortable  surprise.'' 
They  then  asked  her  of  her  welfare,  and  if 
these  young  men  were  her  husband's  sons.  And 
when  she  had  told  them  they  were,  they  said, 
' '  The  King  whom  you  love  and  serve  make 
you  as  your  father,  and  bring  you  where  he  is 
in  peace.'' 

Then  ^Ir.  Honest,  when  they  were  all  sat 
twecuj/r^'Hon"  <^^own,  uskcd  Mr.  Contrite  and  the 
c^t^andMr.con  ^.^^^  j^^  wluit  posturc  tlicir  towu  was 

at  present. 

Cox.  You  may  be  sure  we  are  lull  of  hurry 
in  fair-time.  'T  is  hard  keeping  our  hearts 
wJtcfuuhKL."^  and  spirits  in  good  order  when  we 
are  in  a  cumbered  condition.  He  that  lives 
in  such  a  place  as  this  is,  and  has  to  do  with 
such  as  we  have,  has  need  of  an  item  to  cau- 
tion him  to  take  heed  every  moment  of  the 
dav. 


588  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Hon.  But  how  are  your  neighbors  now  for 
quietness  ? 

Con.  They  are  much  more  moderate  now 
than  formerly.  You  know  how  CKris-     ,  rerseci.tion 

«/  not   so    liot    at 

tian  and  Faithful  were  used  at  our  formerly'''"'  "' 
town;  but  of  late,  I  say,  they  have  been  far 
more  moderate.  I  think  the  blood  of  Faithful 
lietli  as  a  load  upon  them  till  now ;  for  since 
they  burned  him,  they  have  been  ashamed  to 
burn  any  more.  In  those  days  we  were  afraid 
to  walk  the  streets ;  but  now  we  can  show  our 
heads.  Then  the  name  of  a  professor  was 
odious;  now,  especially  in  some  parts  of  our 
town,  (for  you  know  our  town  is  large,)  relig- 
ion is  counted  honorable. 

Then  said  Mr.  Contrite  to  them,  "Pray, 
how  fareth  it  with  you  in  your  pilgrimage?  how 
stands  the  country  affected  towards  you  ?" 

Hon.  It  happens  to  us  as  it  happeneth  to 
wayfaring  men:  sometimes  our  way  is  clean, 
sometimes  foul;  sometimes  up  hill,  sometimes 
down  hill ;  we  are  seldom  at  a  certainty.  The 
wind  is  not  always  on  our  backs,  nor  is  every 
one  a  friend  that  we  meet  with  in  the  wa}^ 
We  have  met  with  some  notable  rubs  already, 
and  what  are  yet  behind  we  know  not;  but 
for  the  most  part,   we  find   it  true   that  has 


RUBS   OF  THE  TILGRIMS.  589 

been  lalkiMJ  of  old,  "A  good  man  must  sufler 
trouble.*' 

Cox.  You  talk  of  rubs:  what  rubs  have  you 
met  withal  ? 

Hox.  Xay,  ask  Mr.  Great-heart,  our  guide; 
for  he  can  give  the  best  account  of  that. 

Great.  We  have  been  beset  thiee  or  four 
times  already.  First,  Christiana  and  her  chil- 
dren were  beset  by  two  ruffians,  who  they  fear- 
ed would  take  away  their  lives.  We  were 
beset  by  giant  Bloody-man,  giant  ^laul,  and 
giant  Play-good.  Indeed,  we  did  rather  beset 
the  last  than  were  beset  by  him.  And  thus  it 
was:  after  we  had  been  some  time  at  the  house 
of  Gains  my  host,  and  of  the  whole  church,  w^e 
were  minded  upon  a  time  to  take  our  weapons 
with  us,  and  go  see  if  we  could  light  upon  any 
of  those  that  are  enemies  to  pilgrims ;  for  we 
heard  that  there  was  a  notable  one  thereabouts. 
Xow  Gains  knew  his  haunt  better  than  I,  be- 
cause he  dwelt  thereabout.  So  we  looked  and 
looked,  till  at  last  we  discerned  the  mouth  of 
his  cave;  then  we  were  glad,  an<l  ]»liickcd  up 
our  spirit'^.  So  we  approached  up  to  his  den ; 
and  lo,  when  we  came  there,  he  had  dragged, 
by  mere  force,  into  his  net,  this  poor  man,  Mr. 
Feeble-mind,  and  was  about  to  brine:  him  to 


590  PILGKIM-S  PROGRESS. 

his  end.  But  wlien  lie  saw  us,  supposing,  as 
we  tliouglit,  he  had  another  prey,  he  left  the 
poor  man  in  his  hole,  and  came  out.  So  we 
fell  to  it  full  sore,  and  he  lustily  laid  about 
him ;  but,  in  conclusion,  he  was  brought  down 
to  the  ground,  and  his  head  cut  off,  and  set  up 
by  the  way-side  for  a  terror  to  such  as  should 
after  practise  such  ungodliness.  That  I  tell 
you  the  truth,  here  is  the  man  himself  to  affirm 
it,  who  was  as  a  lamb  taken  out  of  the  mouth 
of  the  lion. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  "I  found  this 
true,  to  my  cost  and  comfort:  to  my  cost,  when 
he  threatened  to  pick  my  bones  every  moment  ; 
and  to  my  comfort,  when  I  saw  Mr.  Grreat- 
heart  and  his  friends,  with  their  weapons,  ap- 
proach so  near  for  my  deliverance." 

Then  said  Mr.  Holy-man,  ' '  There  are  two 
things  that  they  have  need  to  pos-  sJU""'^ "''"''' 
sess  who  go  on  pilgrimage— courage,  and  an 
unspotted  life.  If  they  have  not  courage,  they 
can  never  hold  on  their  way;  and  if  their- lives 
be  loose,  the}^  will  make  the  very  name  of  a 
pilgrim  stink." 

Then  said  Mr.  Love-saints,  "I  hope  this 
caution  is  not  needful  among  you ;  sjeecir^  '^'"''' 
but  truly   there  are   many  that  go  upon   the 


TWO   ^^ONS    M  AIMMKl).  591 

road,  ^vllt^  i'atli(M-  (k'clar(>  tlicinsclvcs  straiiti-crs 
to  pil,L:-i'iina,i:('.  than  slraii.uxTs  and  pil.iiTiiiis  on 
the  earth." 

Then  said  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  "  T  is  true. 
lie-Isi^ccT.:""*  Tlieyliave  neither  the  pil-rim'.s  weed, 
nor  the  pilgrim's  eonrage  ;  they  go  not  ui)right- 
ly,  l)iit  all  awry  with  their  feet;  one  shoe  goeth 
inward,  another  outward;  and  their  liosen  are 
out  behind:  here  a  rag,  and  there  a  rent,  to 
the  disparagement  of  their  Lord." 

"These  things,"'  said  ^Ir.  Penitent,  ''they 
Bpc^Jcir""'"''  ought  to  be  troubled  for;  nor  are  the 
])ilgrims  like  to  have  that  grace  put  upon  them 
and  their  pilgrim's  j)rogress  as  they  desire, 
until  the  ^vay  is  cleared  .of  such  spots  and 
blemishes."'  Thus  they  sat  talking  and  spend- 
ing the  time  until  suj)})er  was  set  upon  the  ta- 
ble, unto  which  they  went,  and  refreshed  their 
Aveary  bodies :  so  they  Avent  to  rest. 

Xow  they  staid  in  the  fair  a  great  while,  at 
the  house  of  this  ^Ir.  ^Inason,  who  in  process 
of  time  gave  his  daughter  Grace  unto  t^amuel, 
Christiana"s  son,  to  wife,  and  his  daughter  Mar- 
tha to  Joseph. 

The  time,  as  I  said,  that  they  stayed  here, 
was  long,  for  it  was  not  now  as  in  former  times. 
Wherefore  the  [)ilgrims  grew  a('(|uainted  with 


592  riLGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

many  of  the  good  people  of  the  town,  and  did 
them  what  service  they  coiikl.  Mercy,  as  she 
was  wont,  labored  much  for  the  poor:  where- 
fore their  bellies  and  backs  blessed  her,  and 
she  was  there  an  ornament  to  her  profession. 
And,  to  say  the  truth  for  (Iracc,  Phebe,  and 
Martha,  the}^  were  all  of  a  very  good  nature, 
and  did  much  good  in  their  places.  They  were 
also  all  of  them  very  fruitful ;  so  that  Chris- 
tian's name,  as  was  said  before,  was  like  to 
live  in  the  Avorld. 

While  they  la}'  here,  there  came  a  monster 
out  of  the  woods,  and  slew  many  of  a  monster. 
the  people  of  the  town.  It  would  also  carry 
away  their  children,  and  teach  them  to  suck 
its  whelps.  Now,  no  man  in  the  town  durst 
so  much  as  face  this  monster ;  but  all  fled  when 
they  heard  the  noise  of  his  coming. 

The  monster  was  like  unto  no  one  beast  on 
the  earth.  Its  body  was  like  a  drag-  Misshape. 
on,  and  it  had  seven  heads  and  ten  horns.  It 
made  great  havoc  of  children,  and  yet  it  was 
governed  by  a  woman.  Eev.  17:3.  This  mon- 
ster propounded  conditions  to  men;  His  nature, 
and  such  men  as  loved  their  lives  more  than 
their  souls,  accepted  of  those  conditions.  So 
they  came  under. 


TlIK   .MONSTER   DIOFEATED.  593 

Now  Mv.  (Jrcat-lioart.  to.aetlicr  with  those 
who  caiiR'  to  visit  the  piluriiiis  at  Mr.  Mnason's 
house,  entered  into  a  eoveiiant  to  go  and  en- 
gage this  beast,  if  perhajts  tliey  might  deliver 
the  i)eople  of  this  town  from  tlic  paws  and 
moutli  of  this  so  devouring  a  serpent. 

Then  did  Mv.  Great-heart,  Mr.  Contrite, 
^Ir.  IToly-man.  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and  Mr.  Pen- 
itent, with  their  weapons,  go  forth  to  meet  him. 
Xow  the  monster  at  first  was  very  rampant, 
and  looked  upon  these  enemies  with  great  dis- 
^mnvhcsen  ^i^j^^ .    ^^^  ^|^g^,  g^  j^elabored  him, 

being  sturdy  men  at  arms,  that  they  made  him 
make  a  retreat.  So  they  came  home  to  Mr. 
Mnason's  house  again. 

The  monster,  you  must  know,  had  his  cer- 
tain seasons  to  come  out  in,  and  to  make  his 
attempts  upon  the  children  of  the  jieople  of  the 
town.  At  these  seasons  did  these  valiant  wor- 
thies watch  him,  and  did  still  continually  as- 
sault him ;  insomuch  that  in  process  of  time  he 
became  not  only  wounded,  but  lame.  Also  he 
'has  not  made  that  havoc  of  the  townsmen's 
•children  as  formerly  he  had  done;  and  it  is 
verily  believed  by  some  that  this  beast  will  die 
of  his  wounds. 

This,  therefore,  made  Mr.  Great-heart  and 


594  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

his  fellows  of  great  fame  in  this  town;  so  that 
many  of  the  people  that  wanted  their  taste  of 
things,  yet  had  a  reverent  esteem  and  respect 
for  them.  Upon  this  account,  therefore,  it  was 
that  these  pilgrims  got  not  much  hurt  here. 
True,  there  were  some  of  the  baser  sort,  that 
could  see  no  more  than  a  mole,  nor  understand 
any  more  than  a  beast ;  these  had  no  reverence 
for  these  men,  and  took  no  notice  of  their  valor 
and  adventures. 


THE  riLGRlMS  GO  FOKWAKD.  595 


THE  SEVEXTH  STAGE. 

Well,  tlit'  time  <ire\v  uii  lluit  tlie  pilgrims 
must  go  oil  their  way  ;  wherelbre  tliev  prepared 
for  their  joiirnev.  They  sent  for  their  friends ; 
they  conferred  with  them ;  they  had  some  time 
set  apart  therein  to  commit  each  other  to  tlie 
protection  of  their  Prince.  There  were  again 
tliat  brought  them  of  such  things  as  they  had, 
that  ^vere  fit  for  the  weak  and  the  strong,  for 
the  w^omen  and  the  men,  and  so  laded  them  with 
such  things  as  were  necessary.  Acts  28  :  10. 
Then  they  set  forward  on  their  way ;  and  their 
friends  accompanying  them  so  far  as  was  con- 
venient, they  again  committed  each  other  to 
the  protection  of  their  King,  and  parted. 

The}'  therefore  that  w^re  of  tlie  ])ilgrims' 
company  went  on,  and  ^Ir.  Great-heart  went 
before  them.  Xow,  the  women  and  children 
being  weakly,  they  were  forced  to  go  as  the}" 
could  bear ;  by  which  means  Mr.  Ready-to-halt 
and  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had  more  to  sympathize 
with  their  condition. 

AVhen  they  were  gone  from  the  townsmen, 
and  wlieii  their  friends  had  bid  them  farewell, 
they  quickly  came  to  the  place  where  Faithful 


596  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

was  put  to  death.  Therefore  they  made  a 
stand,  and  thanked  Him  that  had  enabled  him 
to  bear  his  cross  so  well ;  and  the  rather,  be- 
cause they  now  found  that  theyjiad  a  benefit 
by  such  a  manly  suffering  as  his  was. 

They  went  on  therefore  after  this  a  good 
way  further,  talking  of  Christian  and  Faithful, 
and  how  Hopeful  joined  himself  to  Christian 
after  that  Faithful  was  dead. 

Now  they  were  come  up  with  the  hill  Lucre, 
where  the  silver  mine  was  which  took  Demas 
off  from  his  pilgrimage,  and  into  which,  as 
some  think,  By-ends  fell  and  perished ;  where- 
fore they  considered  that.  But  wdicn  they 
were  come  to  the  old  monument  that  stood 
over  against  the  hill  Lucre,  to  wit,  to  the  pillar 
of  salt,  that  stood  also  within  view  of  Sodom 
and  its  stinking  lake,  they  marvelled,  as  did 
Christian  before,  that  men  of  such  knowledge 
and  ripeness  of  wit  as  they  were,  should  be  so 
blinded  as  to  turn  aside  here.  Only  the}^  con- 
sidered, again,  that  nature  is  not  affected  with 
the  harms  that  others  have  met  with,  especially 
if  that  thing  upon  which  they  look  has  an  at- 
tracting virtue  upon  the  foolish  eye. 

I  saw  now  that  they  went  on  till  they  came 
to  the  river  that  was  on  this  side  of  the  Delec- 


TIIK  IIOUHK   F(»I!    l..\Mr,,<.  597 

tal)lc  iiKMiiitniiis ;  {o  (lu>  river  wlior(^  Die  fiiio 
trees  grow  on  both  sides,  and  Avliose  leaves,  if 
taken  inwardly. are  g^od  against  snrfeits :  where 
the  meadows  are  green  all  the  year  long,  and 
where  they  might  lie  down  safely.  Psa.  23  : 2. 
]>y  this  river-side,  in  the  meadows,  there 
"were  cotes  and  folds  for  sheep,  a  lionse  bnilt 
for  the  nourishing  and  bi'inging  u\)  of  those 
lambs.  th(^  babes  of  those  women  that  go  on 
l)ilgrimage.  .Vlso  there  was  here  one  that  was 
intrusted  with  them,  who  could  have  compas- 
sion; and  that  could  gather  these  lambs  with 
his  arm,  and  carry  them  in  his  bosom,  and 
gently  lead  those  that  were  with  young.  Ileb. 
5:2;  Isa.  40:11.  Xow,  to  the  care  of  this 
man  Christiana  admonished  her  four  daughters 
to  commit  their  little  ones,  that  l)y  these  waters 
they  might  be  housed,  harbored,  succored,  and 
nourished,  and  that  none  of  them  might  be  lack- 
ing in  time  to  come.  This  man,  if  any  of  them 
go  astray,  or  be  lost,  will  bring  them  again ; 
he  Avill  also  bind  up  that  Avhich  was  broken, 
and  will  strengthen  them  that  are  sick.  eTer. 
23  :  4  ;  Ezek.  34  :  11-1(3.  Here  they  will  never 
want  meat,  drink,  and  clothing:  here  they  will 
be  kept  from  thieves  and  robbei's :  Ibr  this  man 
will  die  l)efore  one  of  those  committed  to  his 


598  PILGRIM'S  PROOKESS. 

trust  shall  be  lost.  Besides,  here  they  shall  be 
sure  to  have  good  nurture  and  admonition,  and 
shall  be  taught  to  walk  in  right  paths,  and  that 
you  know  is  a  favor  of  no  small  account.  Also 
here,  as  you  see,  are  delicate  waters,  pleasant 
meadows,  dainty  flowers,  variety  of  trees,  and 
such  as  bear  wholesome  fruit:  fruit,  not  like 
that  which  Matthew  ate  of,  that  fell  over  the 
wall  out  of  Beelzebub's  garden ;  but  fruit  that 
procureth  health  where  there  is  none,  and  that 
continuetli  and  increaseth  it  where  it  is.  So 
they  were  content  to  commit  their  little  ones 
to  him ;  and  that  which  was  also  an  encourage- 
ment to  them  so  to  do,  was,  for  that  all  this 
was  to  be  at  the  charge  of  the  King,  and  so  was 
as  a  hospital  to  young  children  and  orphans. 

Xow  they  went  on.     And  when  they  were 
come  to  Bv-path  meadow,  to  the  stile    They    being 

»      ^  '  come  to  By-path 

over  which  Christian  went  with  his  S  to^'have  a 
fellow  Hopeful,  when  they  were  taken  despair. 
by  giant  Des})air,  and  put  into  Doubting  cas- 
tle, they  sat  down,  and  consulted  what  was 
best  to  be  done:  to  wit,  now  they  were  so 
strong,  and  had  got  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Great- 
heart  for  their  conductor,  whether  they  had 
not  best  to  make  an  attempt  upon  the  giant, 
demolish  his  castle,  and  if  there  were  any  pil- 


.:i.\\r  i>Ksiv\ii:  attack  kd.     •     509 

o-rims  ill  it.  to  set  iIkmu  ;iI  lilxTly  Itcforr  tlicy 
went  any  fiirtlu'r.  So  one  said  one  tiling,  and 
another  said  llie  eontrary.  One  qnestioned  if 
it  was  lawt'nl  to  go  nj)on  nnconsecrated  ground ; 
anotlier  said  they  might,  provided  tlieir  end 
was  good;  but  Mr.  Great-heart  said,  '^Though 
that  assertion  offered  last  cannot  be  universally 
true,  yet  I  have  a  commandment  to  resist  sin, 
to  overcome  evil,  to  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith:  and  I  pray,  with  whom  should  I  fight 
this  good  fight,  if  not  with  giant  Despair  ?  I 
will  therefore  attempt  the  taking  away  of  his 
life,  and  the  demolishing  of  Doubting  castle.*' 
Then  said*  he,  '"  Who  will  go  with  me?"  Then 
said  old  Honest,  ''I  will."  ''And  so  will  we 
too,''  said  Christiana's  four  sons,  Matthew,  Sam- 
uel, Joseph,  and  James;  for  they  were  young 
men  and  strong.  1  John  2:13,  14.  So  they 
left  the  women  in  the  road,  and  with  them  Mr. 
Feeble-mind,  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  with  his 
crutches,  to  Ije  their  guard  until  they  came 
back  ;  for  in  that  place  the  giant  Despair  dwelt 
so  near,  they  keeping  in  the  road,  a  little  child 
might  lead  them.     Isa.  11 :  G. 

So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the 
four  young  men.  went  to  go  up  to  Doubting 
castle,  to  look  for  giant  Despair.     When  they 


600       *  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

came  at  the  castle  gate,  they  knocked  for  en- 
trance with  an  unusual  noise.  At  that  the  old 
giant  comes  to  the  gate,  and  Diffidence  his  wife 
follows.  Then  said  he,  "Who  and  what  is  he 
that  is  so  hardy  as  after  this  manner  to  molest 
the  giant  Despair  ?"  Mr.  Great-heart  replied, 
"It  is  I,  Great-heart,  one  of  the  King  of  the 
celestial  countr3^'s  conductors  of  pilgrims  to 
their  place  ;  and  I  demand  of  thee  that  thou 
open  thy  gates  for  my  entrance ;  prepare  thy- 
self also  to  tight,  for  I  am  come  to  take  away 
thy  head,  and  to  demolish  Doubting  castle." 

Now  giant  Despair,  because  he  was  a  giant, 
thought  no  man  could  overcome  him  ;  and  again 
thought  he,  "Since  heretofore  I  have  made  a 
conquest  of  ans^els,  shall  Great-heart    Despair   has 

'"  overcome      an- 

make  me  afraid  ?■'  So  he  harnessed  g^is. 
himself,  and  went  out.  He  had  a  cap  of  steel 
upon  his  head,  a  breastplate  of  fire  girded  to 
him,  and  he  came  out  in  iron  shoes,  with  a 
great  club  in  his  hand.  Then  these  six  men 
made  up  to  him,  and  beset  him  behind  and  be- 
fore; also,  when  Diffidence  the  giantess  came 
up  to  help  him,  old  Mr.  Honest  cut  her  down 
at  one  blow.  Then  they  fought  for  their  lives, 
and  giant  Despair  was  brought  down  to'ii^!'"'''''''^*'' 
to  the  ground,  but  was  very  loath  to  die.     He 


iMHliTlXC    CASTLK  D  K  M  O  1. 1.<  II  Hit.'        Cdl 

struggled  liard.  and  liad.  as  th(\v  say.  as  niaiiy 
lives  as  a  oat;  hut  Great-lieait  was  liis  death, 
for  lie  loft  him  iKjt  till  he  liad  severed  his  head 
from  his  shoulders. 

Then  they  Icll  to  demoli.-;hiiig  Douhtiiig  eas- 
tiedcmouiiieir  tie.  aiid  that,  you  know,  might  with 
ease  be  done,  sinee  giant  Despair  was  dead. 
They  were  seven  days  in  destroying  of  that ; 
and  in  it  of  jiilgrims  tliey  found  one  Mr.  Dc- 
spondeney.  almost  starved  to  death,  and  one 
^rueh-atVaid.  his  daughter ;  these  two  they  saved 
alive.  But  it  would  have  made  you  wonder  to 
have  seen  the  dead  l)odies  that  lay  here  and 
there  in  the  eastle  yard,  and  how  full  of  dead 
men's  bones  the  dungeon  was. 

When  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  companions 
had  performed  this  exj)loit.  they  took  Mr.  De- 
spondency and  his  daughter  Much-afraid  into 
their  protection ;  for  the}'  were  honest  people, 
though  they  were  prisoners  in  Doubting  castle 
to  that  tyrant  giant  Despair.  They  therefore, 
I  say.  took  with  them  the  head  of  the  giant, 
(for  his  body  they  had  buried  under  a  heap  of 
stones.)  and  down  to  the  road  and  to  their 
companions  they  came,  and  .showed  them  what 
they  had  done.  Xow.  when  Feeble-mind  and 
Ready-to-halt  saw  that  it  was  the  head  of  giant 


602  ^lL^;lM^r•^:  Pi^or;REf^s. 

Despair  indeed,   they  were  very  jocund  and 

merry.    Now  Christiana,  if  need  was,   They  nave  mu- 
sic and  dancing 

could  play  upon  the  yiol,  and  her  *°''J°>' 
daughter  Mercy  upon  the  lute;  so,  since  they 
'were  so  merry  disposed,  she  played  them  a 
lesson,  and  Ready-to-halt  would  dance.  So  he 
took  Despondency's  daughter  Much-afraid  hy 
the  hand,  and  to  dancing  they  went  in  the 
road.  True,  he  could  not  dance  without  one 
crutch  in  his  hand,  but  I  promise  you  he  footed 
it  well;  also  the  girl  was  to  be  commended,  for 
she  answered  the  music  handsomely. 

As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was  not 
so  much  to  him ;  he  was  for  feeding,  rather 
than  dancing,  for  that  he  was  almost  starved. 
So  Christiana  gave  him  some  of  her  bottle  of 
spirits  for  present  relief,  and  then  prepared 
him  something  to  eat;  and  in  a  little  time  the 
old  gentleman  came  to  himself,  and  began  to 
be  finely  reyiyed. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  when  all  these 
things  were  finished,  Mr.  Great-heart  took  the 
head  of  giant  Despair,  and  set  it  upon  a  pole 
by  the  highway-side,  right  oyer  against  the 
pillar  that  Christian  erected  for  a  caution  to 
pilgrims  that  came  after,  to  take  heed  of  enter- 
ino;  into  his  o-rounds. 


Til  K   I»  E  I.  H(  -T  AIM.  K   .\I( »  T  N  T  A  i  X  < .  6U3 

Then  he  writ  under  it  iii)Oii  a  marble  stoue 
these  verses  following: 

"  This  is  tlic  head  of  him  whose  name  only 
In  former  times  did  pilgrims  terrify. 
His  castle  's  down,  and  Diffidence  his  wife 
Brave  ^fr.  Great-heart  has  bereft  of  Hfe. 
Despondency,  his  daughter  Much-ufraid, 
Oreat-hcart  for  them  also  the  man  has  played. 
Who  liercof  doubts,  if  he  '11  but  cast  his  eye 
Up  liither,  may  his  scruples  satisfy. 
This  head  also,  when  doubting  cripples  dance, 
Doth  show  from  fears  they  have  deliverance." 

When  these  men  had  thus  bravely  showed 
themselves  against  Doubting  castle,  and  had 
slain  giant  Desi)air,  they  went  forward,  and 
went  on  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable  moun- 
tains, where  T'hristian  and  Hopeful  refreshed 
themselves  with  the  varieties  of  the  place. 
They  also  acquainted  themselves  with  the  shep- 
herds there,  who  welcomed  them,  as  they  had 
done  Christian  before,  unto  the  Delectable 
mountains.  • 

X(nv  the  shejiherds  seeing  so  great  a  train 
follow  Mr.  Great-heart,  (for  witli  him  they  were 
well  ac([uainted.)  they  said  inito  him,  "(rood 
sir,  yon  have  got  a  goodly  comi)any  hei'C  ;  pray, 
where  did  you  lind  nil  these?" 

Then  Mr.  (ireat-hcart  replied, 

"First,  here  is  Christiana  and  her  train. 
Her  sons,  and  her  sons'  wives,  who,  like  the  wain, 


fi04  PILCx  RIM'S   PROGRESS. 

Keep  by  the  pole,  and  do  by  compass  steer 
From  sin  to  grace,  else  they  had  not  been  here. 
Next  here  's  old  Honest  come  on  pilgrimage. 
Ready-to-halt  too,  who,  I  dare  engage, 
True-hearted  is,  and  so  is  Feeble-mind, 
Who  willing  was  not  to  be  left  behind. 
Despondency,  good  man,  is  coming  after, 
And  so  also  is  Much-afraid,  his  daughter. 
Mdy  we  have  entertainment  here,  or  must 
We  further  go  ?     Let 's  know  whereon  to  trust." 

Then  said  the  shepherds,  "  This  is  a  com- 
fortable company.  You  are  welcome  tauiment.^"*^''" 
to  us;  for  we  have  for  the  feeble,  as  well  as 
for  the  strong.  Our  Prince  has  an  eye  to  what 
is  done  to  the  least  of  these ;  therefore  infirm- 
ity must  not  be  a  block  to  our  entertainment." 
Matt.  25  :  40.  So  they  had  them  to  the  palace 
door,  and  then  said  unto  them,  "Come  in,  Mr. 
Feeble-mind ;  come  in,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt;  come 
in,  Mr.  Despondency,  and  Mrs.  Much-afraid 
his  daughter.  These,  Mr.  Great-heart,"  said 
the  shepherds  to  the  guide,  "we  call  in  by 
name,  for  that  they  are  most  subject  to  draw 
back;  but  as  for  you,  and  the  rest  that  are 
strong,  we  leave  you  to  your  wonted  liberty." 
Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "This  day  I  see 
that  grace  doth  shine  in  your  faces,  and  that 
you  are  my  Lord's  shepherds  indeed ;  for  that 
you  have  not  pushed  these  diseased    a  description 

•^  ^  of   false    shep 

neither  with  side  nor  shoulder,  but  ^"'^''- 


Mo  INT  MA  i;\  r:i>.  605 

havo  rather  sti-owctl  (lu'ir  way  hiio  the  palace 
with  Howci's.  as  yoti  shoiihl.""      K/.rk.  oi  :21. 

So  the  feeble  ami  weak  went  in,  and  Mr. 
Great-heart  and  the  rest  did  follow.  AYhen 
thev  wi>re  also  set  down,  the  shepherds  said  to 
those  of  the  weaker  sort,  '•  What  is  it  that  you 
would  have?  for,''  said  they,  ''all  thing's  must 
l)e  managed  here  to  the  supi)orting  of  the  weak, 
as  well  as  to  the  warning;  of  the  unruly."  So 
they  made  them  a  feast  of  things  easy  of  diges- 
tion, and  tliat  were  ])leasant  to  the  j)alate,  and 
nourishing;  the  which  when  they  had  received, 
they  went  to  their  rest,  each  one  respectively 
unto  his  pro})er  place. 

When  morning  was  come,  because  the  moun- 
tains were  high,  and  the  day  clear,  and  because 
it  was  the  custom  of  the  shepherds  to  show  the 
pilgrims  before  their  dei)arture  some  rarities, 
therefore,  after  they  were  ready,  and  had  re- 
freshed themselves,  the  shepherds  took  them 
out  into  the  fields,  and  showed  them  first  what 
they  had  shown  to  Christian  before. 

'JIkmi  they  had  them  to  some  new  places. 
Mount  jiarvci.  Thc  first  was  uiouut  ^larvcl,  where 
they  looked,  and  lieheld  a  man  at  a  distance 
that  tuml)lcd  the  liills  about  with  words.  Then 
they  asked   the    sheidierds   what  that    should 


606  PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS. 

mean.  So  the}^  told  them,  that  that  man  was 
the  son  of  one  Mr.  Great-grace,  of  whom  you 
read  in  the  first  part  of  the  records  of  the  Pil- 
grim's Progress;  and  he  is  set  there  to  teach 
pilgrims  how  to  believe  down,  or  to  tumble 
out  of  their  ways,  what  difficulties  they  should 
meet  with,  by  faith.  Mark  11 :  23,  24.  Then 
said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "  I  know  him;  he  is  a 
man  above  many." 

Then  they  had  them  to  another  place,  called 
mount  Innocence.  And  there  they  JlT'"'  ^""'" 
saw  a  man  clothed  all  in  white ;  and  two  men, 
Prejudice  and  Ill-will,  continually  casting  dirt 
upon  him.  Xow  behold,  the  dirt,  whatsoever 
they  cast  at  him,  would  in  a  little  time  fall  off 
again,  and  his  garment  would  look  as  clean  as 
if  no  dirt  had  been  cast  thereat.  Then  said 
the  pilgrims,  "What  means  this?"  The  shep- 
herds answered,  "This  man  is  named  Godl}^- 
man,  and  this  garment  is  to  show  the  innocency 
of  his  life.  Now,  those  that  throw  dirt  at  him, 
are  such  as  hate  his  well-doing;  but,  as  you 
see  the  dirt  will  not  stick  upon  his  "clothes,  so 
it  shall  be  with  him  that  liveth  innocently  in 
the  world.  Whoever  they  be  that  would  make 
such  men  dirty,  they  labor  all  in  vain;  for 
God,  by  that  a  little  time  is  spent,  will  cause 


TIIK   KTIlluri  AX    \\A.<1IH1>.  607 

that  their  innocence  shall  break  forth  as  the 
light,  and  their  righteousness  as  the  noonday." 

Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to 
,,""""' ^"""  mount  Charity,  where  they  showed 
them  a  man  that  had  a  bundle  of  cloth  lying 
before  him,  out  of  which  he  cut  coats  and  gar- 
ments for  the  poor  that  stood  about  him :  yet 
his  bundle  or  roll  of  cloth  was  never  the  less. 
Then  said  they,  ' •  What  should  this  be  ?"  ' '  This 
is,"'  said  the  shepherds,  "to  show  you,  that  he 
who  has  a  heart  to  give  of  his  labor  to  the 
])Oor.  shall  never  want  wherewithal.  He  that 
watereth  shall  be  watered  himself.  And  the 
cake  that  the  widow  gave  to  the  i)rophet  did 
not  cause  that  she  had  the  less  in  her  barrel."' 

They  had  them  also  to  the   place  where 

The  work  of  thcv  saw  ouc  Fool  and  one  Want- 
one    Fool    and 

one  Want  wit.  ^^y\^  washlug  au  Ethiopian,  with  in- 
tention to  make  him  white ;  but  the  more  they 
washed  him,  the  blacker  he  was.  Then  they 
asked  the  slie})herds  what  that  should  mean. 
So  they  told  them,  saying,  "Thus  it  is  with 
the  vile  p(?rson :  all  means  used  to  get  such  a 
one  a  goo<l  name,  shall  in  conclusion  tend  but 
to  make  him  more  abominal)le.  Thus  it  was 
with  the  Pharisees;  and  so  it  shall  be  with  all 
hypocrites."' 


608  PILGIIIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Tlicii  said  Mercy,  the  wife  of  Matthew,  to 
Christiana  her  mother,  "Mother,  I    Mercy  has  a 

mind  to  see  the 

would,  if  it  might  be,  see  the  hole  in  iioi«  "^  ""^  i»ii. 
the  hill,  or  that  commonly  called  the  Bj'-way 
to  hell."  So  her  mother  broke  her  mind  to  the 
shepherds.  Then  they  went  to  the  door;  it 
was  on  the  side  of  a  hill;  and  they  opened  it, 
and  bid  Mercy  hearken  a  while.  So  she  heark- 
ened, and  heard  one  saying,  "Cursed  be  my 
father  for  holding  of  my  feet  back  from  the 
way  of  peace  and  life."  Another  said,  "Oh 
that  I  had  been  torn  in  pieces  before  I  had,  to 
save  my  life,  lost  my  soul !"  And  another  said, 
"  If  I  were  to  live  again,  how  would  I  deny 
myself,  rather  than  come  to  this  place  !"  Then 
there  was  as  if  the  very  earth  groaned  and 
quaked  under  the  feet  of  this  young  woman  for 
fear ;  so  she  looked  white,  and  came  trembling 
away,  saying,  "Blessed  be  he  and  she  that  is 
delivered  from  this  place." 

Now,  when  the  shepherds  had  shown  them 
all  these  things,  then  they  had  them  back  to 
the  palace,  and  entertained  them  with  what 
the  house  would  afford.  But  Mercy,  being  a 
young  and  married  woman,  longed  anrforwhit*"' 
for  something  that  she  saw  there,  l)ut  was 
ashamed  to  ask.    Her  mother-in-law  then  asked 


EXCKLLEXrV  OF  THE  CLASS.  609 

her  wliat  she  ailed,  lor  she  looked  as  one  not 
well.  Then  said  Mercy,  "There  is  a  looking- 
glass  hangs  np  in  the  dining-room,  o(F  which  I 
(^Unnot  take  my  mind;  if,  therefore,  I  have  it 
not,  I  think  I  shall  miscarry."  Then  said  her 
mother,  ''I  will  mention  thy  wants  to  the  shep- 
herds, and  they  will  not  deny  it  thee."  But 
she  said,  "'I  am  ashamed  that  these  men  should 
know  that  I  longed."  'Xay,  my  daughter," 
said  she.  '•  it  is  no  shame,  l)ut  a  virtue,  to  long 
for  such  a  thing  as  that.''  So  Mercy  said, 
"Then,  mother,  if  you  please,  ask  the  shep- 
herds if  they  are  willing  to  sell  it." 

Now  the  glass  was  one  of  a  thousand.  It 
wo^cToff.u.i*'"'  would  present  a  man,  one  way,  with 
his  own  features  exactly;  and  turn  it  but  an- 
other Avay,  and  it  would  show  one  the  very 
face  and  similitude  of  the  Prince  of  pilgrims 
himself.  Yes,  I  have  talked  with  them  that 
can  tell,  and  they  have  said  that  they  have 
seen  the  very  crown  of  thorns  upon  his  head 
by  looking  in  that  glass;  they  have  therein 
also  seen  the  holes  in  his  hands,  his  feet,  and 
his  side.  Yea.  such  an  excellency  is  there  in 
this  glass,  that  it  will  show  him  to  one  where 
they  have  a  mind  to  see  him,  whether  living  or 
dead ;  whether  in  earth,  or  in  heaven;  whether 


610  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

in  a  state  of  humiliation,  or  in  his  exaltation; 
whether  coming  to  suffer,  or  coming  to  reign. 
James  1 :  23  ;  1  Cor.  13:12;  2  Cor.  3  :  18. 

Christiana  therefore  went  to  the  shepherds 
apart,  (now  the  names  of  the  shepherds  were 
Knowledge,  Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sin- 
cere,) and  said  nnto  them,  '"There  is  one  of 
my  daughters,  a  breeding  woman,  that  I  think 
doth  long  for  something  that  she  hath  seen  in 
this  house  ;  and  she  thinks  that  she  shall  mis- 
carry if  she  should  by  you  l)e  denied." 

Then  said  Experience,  "Call  her,  call  her, 
she  shall  assuredl}^  haye  what  we  can  help  her 
to."  So  they  called  her,  and  said  to  her,  "Mer- 
cy, what  is  that  thing  thou  wouldest  haye  ?" 
Then  she  blushed,  and  said,  "The  great  glass 
that  hangs  up  in  the  dining-room."  So  Sincere 
Tan  and  fetched  it,  and  with  a  joyful    shc  dotu  not 

lose    her    long- 

consent  it  was  giyen  her.    Then  she  '"^ 
bowed  her  head,  and  gaye  thanks,  and  said, 
"  By  this  1  know  that  I  haye  obtained  fayor  in 
your  eyes." 

They  also  gaye  to  the  other  young  women 
such  things  as  they  desired,  and  to  their  husbands 
great  commendations,  for  that  they  had  joined 
with  Mr.  Great-heart  in  the  slaying  of  giant  De- 
spair, and  the  demolishing  of  Doubting  castle. 


TlIK   l'\  lJii;i.\I^   DKl'AUT.  (ill 

About  Christiana's  neck  the  shepherds  put 
irowthoshcp-  a  bracelet,  and  so  did  they  about  the 

herds  adorn  the  .if  11'  i 

pilgrims  necks  ot  her  four  daughters ;    also 

they  ])ut  ear-rings  in  their  ears,  and  jewels  on 
their  foreheads. 

AVhen  they  were  minded  to  go  hence,  they 
let  them  go  in  peace,  but  gave  not  to  them  those 
certain  cautions  which  before  were  given  to 
Christian  and  his  companion.  The  reason  was, 
ibr  that  these  had  Great-heart  to  be  their  guide, 
who  was  one  that  was  well  acquainted  with 
things,  and  so  could  give  them  their  cautions 
more  seasonably,  to  wit,  even  when  the  dan- 
ger was  nigh  the  approaching.  What  cautions 
Christian  and  his  companion  had  received  of 
the  shepherds,  they  had  also  lost  by  that  the 
time  was  come  that  they  had  need  to  put  them 
in  practice.  Wherefore  here  was  the  advan- 
tage that  this  company  had  over  the  other. 

From  thence  they  went  on  singing,  and  they 
said, 

'•  Behold  how  fitly  arc  the  stages  set 

For  tlieir  relief  that  pilgrims  are  become, 
Ami  how  they  us  receive  without  one  let, 
That  make  the  other  life  our  mark  and  home. 

AVliat  novelties  they  have  to  us  they  give, 

That  we,  though  pilgrims,  joyful  lives  may  live  ; 

Tliey  do  upon  us,  too,  such  things  bestow. 
Tliat  show  we  pilgrims  are.  where'er  we  go." 


612  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


THE  EIGHTH  STAGE. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  shepherds, 
they  quickly  came  to  the  phicc  where  Christian 
met  Avith  one  Turn-away  that  dwelt  in  the  town 
of  Apostasy.  Wherefore  of  him  Mr.  Great- 
heart  their  guide  did  now  put  them  in  mind, 
saying,  "This  is  the  place  where  Christian  met 
with  one  Turn-away,  who  carried  with  him  the 
cliaracter  of  his  rebellion  at  his  back.  And 
this  I  have  to  say  concerning  this  man,  he 
would  hearken  to  no  counsel,  but  once  a  fall- 
ing, persuasion  could  not  stop  him.  When  he 
came  to  the  place  where  the  cross  Howonexum- 

away  managed 

and  sepulchre  were,  he  did  meet  with  i>is  apostasy. 
one  that  bid  him  look  there ;  but  he  gnashed 
with  his  teeth,  and  stamped,  and  said  he  was 
resolved  to  go  back  to  his  own  town.  Before 
he  came  to  the  gate,  he  met  with  Evangelist, 
who  offered  to  lay  hands  on  him,  to  turn  him 
into  the  way  again  ;  but  this  Turn-away  resist- 
ed him,  and  having  done  much  despite  unto 
him,  he  got  away  over  the  wall,  and  so  escaped 
his  hand." 

Then  they  went  on;  and  just  at  the  place 
where  Little-faith  formerly  was  robbed,  there 


V  ALIANT-FOR-TIU-TH    BH^ET.  G13 

stood  Si  HKiii  with  liis  sword  drawn,  and  his 
lace  all  over  with  blood.  Then  said  Mr.  Great- 
heart,  "Who  art  tliou?"  Tlie  mau  made  an- 
swer, saying,  •"  I  am  one  whose  name  is  Yal- 
iant-l"or-truth.  I  am  a  pilgrim,  and  am  going 
One  vaiiunt  to  tlie  celestial  city.    Now.  as  I  was 

fort  ruth    beset 

with  thieves,  ii^  my  y^ay,  there  were  three  men 
that  did  beset  me,  and  proponnded  nnto  me 
these  three  things:  First,  whether  I  would  be- 
come one  of  them;  second,  or  go  back  from 
whence  I  came;  third,  or  die  upon  the  place. 
Prov.  1:11-14.  To  the  first  I  answered,  I  had 
been  a  true  man  for  a  long  season,  and  there- 
fore it  could  not  be  expected  that  I  should  now 
cast  in  my  lot  with  thieves.  Then  they  de- 
manded what  I  would  say  to  the  second.  So 
I  told  them,  the  place  from  whence  I  came, 
had  I  not  found  incommodity  there,  I  had  not 
forsaken  it  at  all;  but  finding  it  altogether  un- 
suitable to  me,  and  very  unprofitable  for  me,  I 
forsook  it  for  this  way.  Then  they  asked  me 
what  I  said  to  the  third.  And  1  told  them  my 
life  cost  far  more  dear  than  that  I  should  light- 
ly give  it  away.  Besides,  you  have  nothing 
to  do  thus  to  put  things  to  my  choice ;  where- 
fore at  your  peril  be  it,  if  you  meddle.  Then 
these  three,  to  wit,  Wild-head,  Inconsiderate, 


614  riLGRIM'S  PRUURESS. 

and  Pragmatic,  drew  upon  mc,  and  I  also  drew 
upon  tliem.  So  we  fell  to  it,  one  against  three, 
for  the  space  of  above  three  hours.  They  have 
left  upon  me,  as  you  see,  some  of  the  marks  of 
their  valor,  and  have  also  carried  away  with 
them  some  of  mine.  They  are  but  just  now 
gone ;  I  suppose  they  might,  as  the  saying  is, 
hear  your  horse  dash,  and  so  they  betook  them- 
selves to  flight." 

Great.  But  here  was  great  odds,  three 
against  one. 

' '  'T is  true, "  replied  Yaliant-for-truth ;  ' ' but 
little  or  more  are  nothing  to  him  that  has  the 
truth  on  his  side.  '  Though  a  host  should  en- 
camp against  me,'  said  one,  Psa.  27:3,  'my 
heart  shall  not  fear;  though  war  should  rise 
against  me,  in  this  will  I  be  confident,'  etc.  Be- 
sides," said  he,  "I  have  read  in  some  records, 
that  one  man  has  fought  an  army;  and  how  many 
did  Samson  slay  with  the  jawbone  of  an  ass !" 

Then  said  the  guide,  "  AVhy  did  3'ou  not 
cry  out,  that  some  might  have  come  in  for  your 
succor  ?" 

Valiant.  So  I  did  to  m}^  King,  who  I  kncAV 
could  hear  me,  and  afford  invisible  help,  and 
that  was  sufficient  for  me. 

Then  said  Great-heart  to  Mr.  Yaliant-for- 


V.\  l.I  ANT  CO.MMKNDKM.  615 

triitli.    "'riKtu   liast   worthily   Ix-liavrd  tliysell"; 
let  iiic  sec  lliy  .^word.'"      So  lie  sliowcd  it  liiiil. 

>Vln'ii  he  liad  taken  it  in  liis  liand.  and 
looked  llicrcon  a  wliilo,  hv  said.  "lla.  it  is  a 
riglit  Jerusalem  blade." 

Valiant.  It  is  so.  Let  a  man  have  one  of 
these  blades,  with  a  hand  to  wield  it.  and  skill 
to  use  it.  and  he  may  venture  ujjon  an  angel 
with  it.  lie  need  not  fear  its  holding,  if  he 
ean  but  tell  how  to  lay  on.  Its  edge  will  never 
blunt,  it  will  eut  llesh  and  l)ones,  and  soul 
and  spirit,  and  all.     lleb.  1  :  12. 

Great.  But  you  fought  a  great  while ;  I 
wonder  you  was  not  weary. 

Thewoni.        -Yaliaxt.  I  fouglit  till  uiv  sword 

did  eleave  to  my  hand;  and  then  they  were 

The  faith,     jolued  together  as  if  a  sword  grew 

Blood.       out  of  my  arm  ;  and  when  the  blood 

ran   through   my   lingers,   then   I   fought  with 

most  courage. 

Great.  Thou  hast  done  well;  thou  hast 
resisted  unto  blood,  striving  against  sin.  Thou 
shalt  a])ide  by  us,  come  in  and  go  out  with  us; 
for  we  are  thy  companions. 

Then  they  took  him  and  washed  his  wounds, 
and  gave  him  of  what  they  had,  to  refresh  him ; 
and  so  thev  went  on  tooether. 


61G  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

^ow,  as  they  went  on,  because  Mr.  Great- 
lieart  was  delighted  in  him,  (for  he  loved  one 
greatly  that  he  found  to  be  a  man  of  his  hands,) 
and  because  there  were  in  company  those  that 
were  feeble  and  weak,  therefore  he  questioned 
with  him  about  many  things;  as,  first,  what 
countryman  he  was. 

Yaliant.  I  am  of  Dark-land ;  for  there  was 
I  born,  and  there  my  father  and  mother  are 
still. 

''Dark-land?"  said  the  guide;  "doth  not 
that  lie  on  the  same  coast  with  the  city  of  De- 
struction ?" 

Yaliant.  Yes,  it  doth.     Now  that  which 

caused  me   to   come   on   pilgrimage   how  Mr.  val- 
iant came  to  go 

was  this.  We  had  one  Mr.  Tell-true  on  pilgrimage. 
come  into  our  parts,  and  he  told  it  about  what 
Christian  had  done,  that  Avent  from  the  city  of 
Destruction ;  namely,  how  he  had  forsaken  his. 
wife  and  children,  and  had  betaken  himself  to 
a  pilgrim^s  life.  It  was  also  confidently  re- 
ported, how  he  had  killed  a  serpent  that  did 
come  out  to  resist  him  in  his  journey;  and  how 
he  got  through  to  whither  he  intended.  It  was 
also  told  what  welcome  he  had  at  all  his  Lord's 
lodgings,  especially  when  he  came  to  the  gates 
of  the  celestial  city;  for  there,  said  the  man 


TALK   OF  CIIKISTIAX.  617 

lie  was  receivoil  willi  sound  of  tniiupot  by  a, 
coinpaiiy  of  shiniiw^-  ones.  lie  told  also  how 
all  the  bells  in  the  city  did  ring  for  joy  at  his 
reception,  and  what  golden  garments  he  was 
clothed  with  :  with  many  other  things  that  now 
I  shall  forbear  to  relate.  In  a  word,  that  man 
so  told  the  story  of  Christian  and  his  travels 
that  my  heart  fell  into  a  burning  haste  to  be 
g(jne  after  him;  nor  could  father  or  mother 
stay  me.  So  I  got  from  them,  and  am  come 
thus  far  on  my  way. 

Great.  You  came  in  at  the  gate,  did  you 
not  ? 

Valiant.  Yes,  yes ;  for  the  same  man  also 
He  begins  right,  told  US,  that  all  would  be  nothing  if 
we  did  not  begin  to  enter  this  way  at  the  gate. 

"Look  you/'  said  the  guide  to  Christiana, 
nameS^mou^s""  "the  .pilgrimage  of  your  husband, 
and  what  he  has  gotten  thereby,  is  spread 
abroad  far  and  near." 

Valiant.  Why,  is  this  Christian's  wife  ? 

Great.  Yes,  that  it  is;  and  these  also  are 
his  four  sons. 

Valiant.  What,  and  going  on  pilgrimage 
too? 

Great.  Yes,  verily,  they  are  following  after. 

Valiant.  Tt  glads' me  at  the  heart.     Good 


618  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

man,  how  joyful  will  he  be  when  he  shall  see 
them  that  would  not  go  Avith  him,    He  is  much 

rejoiced  to    see 

yet  to  enter  after  him  in  at  the  gates  <-i»"stiana. 
into  the  celestial  city. 

Great.  Without  doubt  it  will  be  a  comfort 
to  him;  for,  next  to  the  joy  of  seeing  himself 
there,  it  will  be  a  joy  to  meet  there  his  wife 
and  children. 

Valiant.  But  now  you  are  upon  that,  pray 
let  me  hear  your  opinion  about  it.  Some  make 
a  question  whether  ayc  shall  know  one  another 
when  we  are  there. 

Great.  Do  you  think  they  shall  know  them- 
selves then,  or  that  they  shall  rejoice  to  see 
themselves  in  that  bliss?  And  if  they  think 
they  shall  know  and  do  this,  why  not  know 
others,  and  rejoice  in  their  welfare  also?  Again, 
since  relations  are  our  second  self,  though  that 
state  Avill  be  dissolved  there,  yet  why  may  it 
not  be  rationally  concluded  that  we  shall  be 
more  glad  to  see  them  there  than  to  see  they 
are  Avanting  ? 

Yaliaxt.  Well,  I  perceive  whereabouts  you 
are  as  to  this.  Have  you  any  more  things  to  ask 
me  about  my  beginning  to  come  on  pilgrimage  ? 

Great.  Yes ;  were  your  father  and  mother 
willing  that  you  should  become  a  pilgrim  ? 


STlMBLIXC-BLOrKS.  619 

Valiant.  0  no:  thcv  used  all  means  imag- 
inable to  persuade  me  to  stay  at  home. 

Great.  AVhy,  \vliat  could  they  say  against 
it? 

Valiant.  They  said  it  was  an  idle  life; 
Thegrcatstum  rj|j(|  jf  {  myself  wcFC  not  inclined  to 

blmgblocks  by 

!nws'w4v''"'sl()th  and  laziness,  I  would  never 
countenance  a  |)ilgrim"s  condition. 

Great.  And  what  did  they  say  else  ? 

Valiant.  Why,  they  told  me  that  it  was  a 
dangerous  way ;  yea,  the  most  dangerous  way 
in  the  world,  said  they,  is  that  which  the  ])il- 
grims  go. 

Great.  Did  they  show  you  whei'ein  this 
way  is  so  dangerous  ? 

Valiant.  Yes;  and  that  in  many  particu- 
lars. 

Great.  Xamc  some  of  them. 

Valiant.  They  told  me  of  the  Slough  of 
bHng-bK"™'  Despond,  whei-e  Christian  was  well- 
nigh  smothered.  They  lold  me  that  there  were 
archers  standing  ready  in  Beelzebub-castle  to 
shoot  them  who  should  knock  at  the  Wicket- 
gate  for  entrance.  They  told  me  also  of  the 
wood  and  dark  mountains:  (jf  the  hill  Diflicul- 
ty:  of  the  lions;  and  also  of  the  three  giants, 
Bloodv-man.  Alaul.  and  Slav-frood.    Thev  said, 


620  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

moreover,  that  there  Avas  a  foul  fiend  haunted 
the  valley  of  Humiliation;  and  that  Christian 
was  by  him  almost  bereft  of  life.  Besides, 
said  the}^,  you  must  go  over  the  valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  where  the  hobgoblins  are, 
where  the  light  is  darkness,  where  the  way  is 
full  of  snares,  pits,  traps,  and  gins.  They  told 
me  also  of  giant  Despair,  of  Doubting  castle, 
and  of  the  ruin  that  the  pilgrims  met  with  here. 
Further,  they  said  I  must  go  over  the  Enchant 
ed  ground,  which  was  dangerous;  and  that 
after  all  this  I  should  find  a  river  over  which 
there  was  no  bridge,  and  that  that  river  did 
lie  between  me  and  the  celestial  country. 

Great.  And  was  this  all  ? 

Yaliant.  No  ;  they  also  told  me  that  this 
way  was  full  of  deceivers,   and  of    The  second. 
persons  that  lay  in  wait  there  to  turn  good 
men  out  of  the  path. 

Great.  But  how  did  they  make  that  out  ? 

Yaliant.  They  told  me  that  Mr.  Worldly- 
wiseman  did  lie  there  in  wait  to  deceive.  They 
said  also,  that  there,  were  Formality  and  Hy- 
pocrisy continually  on  the  road.  They  said 
also,  that  By-ends,  Talkative,  or  Dema5,  would 
go  near  to  gather  me  up;  that  the  Flatterer 
would  catch  me  in  his  net ;  or  that,  with  green- 


STrMr.I.IN'C -BLOCKS.  021 

headed  Tuiioriuice.  T  would  presume  to  p;^  ou 
to  the  gate,  froui  wheuee  lie  was  seut  back  to 
the  hole  that  was  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  aud 
made  to  go  the  by-way  to  hell. 

Great.  I  ])roniise  you  this  was  enough  to 
discourage  yon ;  l)ut  (bd  they  make  an  end  here? 

Valiant.  Xo.  stay;  they  tohl  me  also  of 
Thcthini.  many  that  had  tried  that  way  of  old, 
and  that  had  gone  a  great  way  therein,  to  see 
if  they  could  find  something  of  the  glory  there 
that  so  many  had  so  much  talked  of  from  time 
to  time,  iind  how  they  came  back  again,  and 
befooled  themselves  for  setting  a  foot  ont  of 
doors  in  that  path,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  the 
country.  And  they  named  several  that  did  so, 
as  Obstinate  and  Plial)le.  ^fistrust  and  Timo- 
rous, Turn-away  and  old  Atheist,  with  several 
more;  who,  they  said,  had  soiue  of  them  gone 
far  to  see  what  they  could  find,  but  not  one  of 
them  had  found  so  much  advantage  bv  going 
as  amounted  to  the  Aveight  of  a  feather. 

Great.  Said  they  any  tiling  more  to  dis- 
courage yon  ? 

Yaliaxt.  Yes:  they  told  me  of  one  Mr. 

The  fourth.    Fcariug,  who  was  a  pilgrim,  and  how 

he  found  his  way  so  solitary  that  he  never  had 

a  comfoi'tablc  lioui-  Ihereiu:  al.<o.  that  ^Fr.  De- 


622  PTLCimL-f^  PRorniESP. 

spondency  had  like  to  have  been  starved  there- 
in: yea,  and  also  (which  I  had  almost  forgot,) 
(hat  Christian  himself,  about  whom  there  has 
been  such  a  noise,  after  all  his  adventures  for 
a  celestial  crown,  was  certainly  drowned  in  the 
Black  river,  and  never  went  a  foot  further; 
however,  it  was  smothered  up. 

Great.  And  did  none  of  these  things  dis- 
courage you  ? 

Yaliant.  No ;  they  seemed  but  as  so  many 
nothings  to  me. 

Great.  How  came  that  about  ? 

Yaliant.  Whv,  I  still  believed    how  he  got 

''  over  these  stum- 

what  Mr.   Tell-true  had  said ;   and  bii»g  blocks. 
that  carried  me  beyond  them  all. 

Great.  Then  this  was  your  victory,  even 
your  faith. 

Yaliant.  It  was  so.  I  believed,  and  there- 
fore came  out,  got  into  the  way,  fought  all  that 
set  themselves  against  me,  and,  by  believing, 
am  come  to  this  place. 

"Who  would  true  valor  see, 

Let  him  come  hither ; 

One  here  will  constant  be, 

Come  wind,  come  weather ; 
There  's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent 
His  first  avowed  intent 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 


Tin:  i: x<iiANTF. I)  ciMtrxD.  023 

"  Wlinso' besot  liim  idimil 
With  dismal  stdrii'S, 
Do  but  themselves  confound  ; 

His  strciif^th  the  more  is. 
No  lion  can  him  frij^ht, 
lie  "11  with  a  giant  fight, 
But  he  will  have  a  right 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

"Hobgoblin  nor  foul  fiend 
Can  daunt  his  spirit; 
He  knows  he  at  the  end 

Shall  life  inherit. 
Then  fancies  fly  away, 
He  '11  not  fear  what  men  say ; 
He  '11  labor  night  and  day 
To  be  a  pilgrim." 

By  tbi.s  time  tlioy  were  got  to  the  Enchanted 
ground,  where  the  air  naturally  tended  to 
make  one  drow.^y.  And  that  place  was  all 
grown  over  with  briers  and  thorns,  excepting 
here  and  tliere.  where  was  an  enchanted  arbor, 
upon  wliich  if  a  man  sits,  or  in  which  if  a  man 
sleeps,  it  is  a  question,  some  say,  whether  ever 
he  shall  rise  or  wake  again  in  tliis  world.  Over 
this  forest,  therefore,  they  went  both  one  and 
another,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before,  for 
that  he  was  the  guide;  and  ^Ir.  Yaliant-for 
truth  came  behind,  being  rear-guard,  for  fear 
lest  perad venture  some  fiend,  or  dragon,  or 
giant,  or  thief,  should  fall  ui)0ii  their  rear,  and 
so  do  mischief.     Thev  went  on  here,  each  man 


624  PILGRIM'S  TROGRESS. 

with  liis  sword  drawn  in  His  hand;  for  they 
knew  it  was  a  dangerous  phice.  Also  the}^ 
cheered  up  one  another  as  well  as  the}^  could. 
Mr.  Feeble-mind  Mr.  Great-heart  commanded 
should  come  up  after  him ;  and  Mr.  Despond- 
ency was  under  the  eye  of  Mr.  Yaliant. 

Now  they  had  not  gone  far,  but  a  great 
mist  and  darkness  fell  upon  them  all ;  so  that 
they  could  scarce,  for  a  great  while,  the  one 
see  the  other.  AYherefore  they  were  forced, 
for  some  time,  to  feel  one  for  another  by  words ; 
for  they  walked  not  by  sight.  But  any  one 
must  think  that  here  was  but  sorry  going  for 
the  best  of  them  all ;  but  how  much  worse  for 
the  women  and  children,  who  both  of  feet  and 
heart  were  but  tender  !  Yet  so  it  was,  that 
through  the  encouraging  words  of  him  that  led 
in  the  front,  and  of  him  that  brought  them  up 
behind,  they  made  a  pretty  good  shift  to  wag 
along. 

The  way  also  here  w^as  very  wearisome, 
through  dirt  and  slabbiness.  Nor  w^as  there  on 
all  this  ground  so  much  as  one  inn  or  victual- 
ling house  wherein  to  refresh  the  feebler  sort. 
Here,  therefore,  was  grunting  and  puffing  and 
sighing,  wdiile  one  tumbleth  over  a  bush,  an- 
other sticks  fast  in  the  dirt,  and  the  children, 


THE  SI.OTIIFI'I.'S   ri!IKNl>.  iVlo 

ponio  of  tlieni,  lost  tlieir  slioos  in  \ho  m'wc : 
wliile  Olio  crit's  out.  "I  am  down:""  and  an- 
other. ■' IIo,  wlierc  arc  you?"  and  a  tliird. 
''The  bushes  have  got  such  fast  hold  on  me,  I 
lliiuk  T  cannot  a'ct  away  from  them."' 

Then  they  came  at  an  arljor,  warm,  and 
An  arbor  on  promlsinu'  mucli  rcfrcshinQ,-  to  the  iiil- 

thc    Enchantcil  ^  "^ 

ground.  o-rims;    for    it    was    finely   wn-ouiiht 

above-head,  beautified  with  greens,  furnished 
with  benches  and  settles.  It  also  had  in  it  a 
soft  couch,  whereon  the  weary  might  lean.  This, 
you  must  think,  all  things  considered,  was 
tempting;  for  the  pilgrims  already  began  to  be 
foiled  with  the  badness  of  the  way;  but  there 
was  not  one  of  them  that  made  so  much  as  a 
motion  to  stop  there.  Yea,  for  aught  I  could 
perceive,  they  continually  gave  so  good  heed 
to  the  advice  of  their  guide,  and  he  did  so 
faithfully  tell  them  of  dangers,  and  of  the  na- 
ture of  the  dangers  when  they  were  at  them, 
that  usually,  when  they  were  nearest  to  them 
they  did  most  j)luck  up  their  spirits,  and  heart- 
en one  another  to  deny  the  flesh.  This  arbor 
thIarbS?'"' **' was  called  The  Slothfufs  Friend. 
and  was  made  on  purpose  to  allure,  if  it  might 
be,  sonn'  of  the  i)ilgrims  there  to  take  u])  their 
rest  when  wearv. 


02g  riLCiinrs  i^r.ooiiE^^?. 

T  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on 
in  this  their  solitary  ground,  till  they  cuTt'tVraui'''"'' 
came  to  a  place  at  Avhich  a  man  is  apt  to  lose 
his  way.  Now,  though  when  it  was  light  their 
guide  could  well  enough  tell  how  to  miss  those 
ways  that  led  wrong,  yet  in  the  dark  he  was 
])ut  to  a  stand.  But  he  had  in  his  alX^ol'Vays 
pocket  a  map  of  all  ways  leading  to  froni'iL city""^ 
or  from  the  celestial  city :  wherefore  he  struck 
a  light,  (for  he  neyer  goes  without  his  tinder- 
box  also,)  and  takes  a  yiew  of  his  book  or 
map,  which  bids  him  to  be  careful  in  that  place 
to  turn  to  the  right  hand.  And  had  lie  not 
1)een  careful  here  to  look  in  his  map,  they  had 
all,  in  probability,  been  smothered  in  the  mud ; 
for  just  a  little  before  them,  and  that  at  the 
end  of  the  cleanest  way  too,  was  a  pit,  none 
knows  how  deep,  full  of  nothing  but  mud,  there 
made  on  purpose  to  destroy  the  pilgrims  in. 

Then  thought  I  with  mj^self.  Who  that  goeth 
on  pilgrimage  but  w'ould  haye  one  of    Gods  book. 
these  maps  about  him,  that  he  may  look,  when 
he  is  at  a  stand,  which  is  the  way  he  must  take  ? 

Then  they  went  on  in  this  Enchanted  ground 
till  they  came  to  where  there  was    An  arbor,  an^ 

two  aslee;. 

another  arbor,  and  it  was  built  by  O'erein 
tlie  hio'hway-side.     And  in  that  arbor  there 


'1'  1 1  K  !•: N  (■  1 1  A  N  T  K I »  ( ;  IJ O  f  N  I ) .  ('.27 

lay  two  incii.  wlioso  nanics  were  Heedless  and 
T<»()-1>(>1<1.  These  two  ^veut  lliiis  far  on  pilgriin- 
aiic:  I'ut  here,  beiiii;-  wearied  with  their  jour- 
ney, they  sat  down  to  rest  themselves,  and  so 
fell  fast  asleep.  When  the  jtilgrims  saw  them, 
they  stood  still,  and  shook  their  heads;  for 
they  knew  that  the  sleepers  were  in  a  pitiful 
case.  Then  they  eonsnlted  what  to  do,  whether 
to  go  on  and  leave  them  in  their  sleep,  or  to 
stei>  to  them  and  try  to  awake  them ;  so  they 
concluded  to  go  to  them  and  awake  them,  that 
is.  if  they  could:  but  with  this  caution,  name- 
ly, to  take  heed  that  they  themselves  did  not 
sit  down,  nor  eml)race  the  offered  benefit  of 
that  arbor. 

So  they  went  in.  and  spoke  to  the  men,  and 
The  pilgrims  callcd  cach  by  his  name,  for  the 
tlam  '  guide,  it  seems,  did  know  them :  but 
there  was  no  voice  nor  answer.  Then  the 
guide  did  shake  them,  and  do  what  he  could  to 
disturb  thein.  Then  said  one  of  them.  '•  T  will 
pay  you  when  T  take  my  money. '"  At  which 
the  guide  shook  his  head.  ''T  will  fight  so 
long  as  I  can  hold  my  swoi-d  in  my  hand,""  said 
the  other.  At  that,  one  of  the  children  laughed. 
Then  said  CMii-istiana.  "What  is  the  mean- 
inir  of  this?""    The  guide  said.    -They  talk  in 


628  PILPrRT^r'S  PROCrRESS. 

their  sleep.  If  you  strike  them,  beat  them,  or 
whatever  else  you  do  to  them,  they  ilirLlues!::''''"' 
will  answer  you  after  this  fashion ;  or  as  one 
of  them  said  in  old  time,  when  the  waves  of 
the  sea  did  beat  upon  him,  and  he  slept  as  one 
upon  the  mast  of  a  ship,  When  I  awake,  I  will 
seek  it  yet  again.  Prov.  23  :  34,  35.  You 
know,  when  men  talk  in  their  sleep,  they  say 
any  thing;  but  their  words  are  not  governed 
either  by  faith  or  reason.  There  is  an  inco- 
herency  in  their  words  now,  as  there  was  be- 
fore between  their  going  on  jnlgrimage  and 
sitting  down  here.  This,  then,  is  the  mischief 
of  it:  when  heedless  ones  go  on  pilgrimage, 
'tis  twenty  to  one  but  they  are  served  thus. 
For  this  Enchanted  ground  is  one  of  the  last 
refuges  that  the  enemy  to  pilgrims  has ;  where- 
fore it  is,  as  you  see,  placed  almost  at  the  end 
of  the  way,  and  so  it  standeth  against  us  with 
the  more  advantage.  For  when,  thinks  the  ene- 
my, will  these  fools  be  so  desirous  to  sit  down 
as  when  they  are  weary  ?  And  when  so  like  to 
be  weary  as  when  almost  at  their  journey's 
end  ?  Therefore  it  is,  I  say,  that  the  Enchanted 
ground  is  placed  so  nigh  to  the  land  Beulah, 
and  so  near  the  end  of  their  race.  Wherefore 
let  pilgrims  look  to  themselves,  lest  it  happen 


PTANUFAST  AT    T  I!  AVER.  629 

to  them  as  it  lias  done  to  tliese  that,  as  you  sec, 
are  lallen  asleep,  and  none  can  awake  them." 

Then  the  })ilgi-ims  desired  Avith  trembling 
to  go  forward ;  only  they  i)rayed  their  guide 
to  strike  a  light,  that  they  might  go  the  rest  of 
their  way  by  the  help  of  the  light  of  a  lantern. 
So  he  struck  a  light,  and  they  went  by  the 
thlword^'''  "'help  of  that  through  the  rest  of  this 
way,  though  the  darkness  was  very  great. 
2  Pet.  1:19.  But  the  children  began  to  be 
The  children  sorelv  wearv,   and    thev  cried  out 

cry    lor   weari-  -  ^ 

ness.  i^^to  Him   that   loveth    pilgrims   to 

make  their  wiiy  more  comfortable.  So  by  that 
they  had  gone  a  little  further,  a  wind  arose 
that  drove  away  the  fog,  so  the  air  became 
more  clear.  Yet  they  were  not  off,  by  much, 
of  the  Enchanted  ground ;  only  now  the}'  could 
see  one  another  better,  and  the  way  wherein 
they  should  walk. 

Xow  when  they  w^ere  almost  at  the  end  of 
this  ground,  they  perceived  that  a  little  before 
them  Avas  a  solemn  noise,  as  of  one  that  Avas 
much  concerned.  So  they  went  on,  and  looked 
on'his'knee.s''rn  ^^^forc  thcm ;  aud  behold,  they  saw, 

tlie    Enchanted  ii  ±i  ^   i^  l   • 

ground.  as    they   thought,   a  man    upon  his 

knees,  with  hands  and  eyes  lifted  up,  and 
speaking,  as  they  thought,  earnestly  to  one  that 


630  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

was  above.  They  drew  nigli,  but  could  not 
tell  what  he  said  •  so  they  went  softly  till  he 
had  done.  When  he  had  done,  he  got  up,  and 
began  to  run  towards  the  celestial  city.  Then 
Mr.  Great-heart  called  after  him,  saying,  "So- 
ho,  friend,  let  us  have  your  company,  if  you 
go,  as  I  suppose  you  do,  to  the  celestial  city." 
So  the  man  stopped,  and  they  came  up  to  him. 
But  as  soon  as  Mr.  Honest  saw  him,  he  said, 
"I  know  this  man."  Then  said  Mr.  Yaliant- 
for- truth,  "Prithee,  who  is  it?''  "It  is  one," 
said  he,  "  that  comes  from  whereabout  I  dwelt. 
His  name  is  Standfast ;  he  is  certain-  stlndiafr^  °* 
ly  a  right  good  pilgrim." 

So  they  came  up  to  one  another ;  and  pres- 
ently Standfast  said  to  old  Honest,  "Ho,  Fa- 
ther Honest,  are  you  there  ?"  '  'Aye, "    Talk  between 

standfast     and 

said  he,  "that  I  am,  as  sure  as  you  Mr  Honest. 
are  there."  "Right  glad  am  I,"  said  Mr.  Stand- 
fast, "that  I  have  found  you  on  this  road." 
"And  as  glad  am  I,"  said  the  other,  "that  I 
espied  you  on  your  knees."  Then  Mr.  Stand- 
fast blushed,  and  said,  "But  why,  did  you  see 
me?"  "Yes,  that  I  did,"  quoth  the  other, 
"and  with  my  heart  was  glad  at  the  sight." 
"Why,  what  did  you  think?"  said  Standfast. 
'"Think?"    said   old  Honest;    "what  could  I 


WHY    STANDFAST    rHAYHD.  )j:U 

tliiiik  ?  I  tlioii^u'lit  WO  had  an  honest  man  upon 
the  road,  and  therefore  shouhl  have  his  com- 
pany V»y  and  l)y.''  "If  you  thought  not  amiss," 
said  .^andfast,  •ho^v  hapi)y  am  1 1  But  if  I  be 
not  as  I  should,  't  is  I  ah)ne  nnist  bear  it." 
"That  is  true,"  said  the  other;  "but  your  fear 
doth  further  confirm  me  that  things  are  right 
between  the  Prince  of  pilgrims  and  your  soul. 
For  he  saith,  '  Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth 
always.'"     Prov.  28:14. 

Valiant.  Well.  Init,  brother,  I  pray  thee 
tell  us  what  was  it  that  was  the  cause  of  thy 
iiim'at  pra*?""''  bclug  upou  tliy  knees  even  now  :  w\as 
it  for  that  some  special  mercy  laid  obligations 
upon  thee,  or  how  ? 

Stand.  Why,  we  are,  as  you  see,  uj)on  the 
What  it  was  Enchanted  ground ;   and  as   I   was 

that  fetched  him  ' 

upou  his  knees,  couilug  aloug,  I  was  uiusing  With 
myself  of  what  a  dangerous  nature  the  road  in 
this  place  was,  and  how  many  that  had  come 
oven  thus  far  on  pilgrimage  had  here  been 
stop])ed  and  been  destroyed.  I  thought  also 
of  the  manner  of  the  death  with  which  this 
place  destroyeth  men.  Those  that  die  here, 
die  of  no  violent  distemper:  the  dcalli  which 
such  die  is  not  grievous  to  them.  For  he  that 
goeth   away  in   a   sleep,   T)egins  that  Journey 


632  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

with  desire  and  pleasure.  Yea,  such  acquiesce 
in  the  will  of  that  disease. 

Then  Mr.  Honest  interrupting  him,  said, 
"Did  you  see  the  two  men  asleep  in  tiie  ar- 
bor r 

Stand.  A3'e,  aye,  I  saw  Heedless  and  Too- 
bold  there;  and  for  aught  I  know,  there  they 
will  lie  till  they  rot.  Prov.  10:7.  But  let  me 
go  on  with  my  tale.  As  I  was  thus  musing,  as 
I  said,  there  was  one  in  very  pleasant  attire, 
but  old,  who  presented  herself  to  me,  and 
offered  me  three  things,  to  wit,  her  body,  her 
purse,  and  her  bed.  Now  the  truth  is,  I  was 
both  Aveary  and  sleepy.  I  am  also  as  poor  as 
an  owlet,  and  that  perhaps  the  witch  knew. 
Well,  I  repulsed  her  once  and  again,  but  she 
put  by  my  repulses,  and  smiled.  Then  I  began 
to  be  angry ;  but  she  mattered  that  nothing  at 
all.  Then  she  made  offers  again,  and  said  if  I 
would  be  ruled  by  her,  she  Avould  make  me 
great  and  happy;  "for,"  said  she,  "I  am  the 
mistress  of  the  world,  and  men  are  made  happy 
by  me."    Then  I  asked  her  name,  and  she  told 

me  it  was  Madam  Bubble.     This  set    Madam  Bub- 
ble or  this  vain 

me  further  from  her ;  but  she  still  "'^^••''' 
followed  me  with  enticements.     Then  I  betook 
me,  as  j'ou  saw,  to  my  knees,  and  with  hands 


MADAM    i;il5I!Li:'.<   PH'TrKE.  G33 

lifted  up,  ami  cries.  I  prayed  to  Him  lliat  had 
said  he  would  hel|).  So,  just  as  you  came  up. 
the  ji-eutlewomau  wcut  her  way.  .Then  I  eoip 
tiuued  to  give  thanks  lor  this  my  great  deliv- 
erauce;  for  I  verily  believe  she  intended  no 
good,  but  rather  sought  to  make  stop  of  mc  in 
my  journey. 

Hex.  Without  doubt  her  designs  were  bad. 
But  stay,  now  you  talk  of  her,  methinks  I 
either  have  seen  her.  or  have  read  some  story 
of  her. 

Stand.  Perhaps  you  have  done  both. 

Hon.  Madam  Bubble?  is  she  not  a  tall, 
comely  dame,  somewhat  of  a  swarthy  complex- 
ion? 

Stand.  Right,  you  hit  it;  she  is  just  such 
a  one. 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  speak  very  smoothly, 
and  give  you  a  smile  at  the  end  of  a  sentence  \ 

Stand.  You  fall  right  upf>n  it  again,  for 
these  are  her  very  actions. 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  w^ear  a  great  purse  by 
her  side,  and  is  not  her  hand  often  in  it,  fin- 
gering her  money,  as  if  that  was  her  heart's 
delight  ? 

Stand.  T  is  just  so;  had  she  stood  l)y  all 
(his  while,  you  could  not  more  am])ly  have  set 


634  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

her  forth  before  me,  nor  have  better  described 
her  features. 

Hon.  Then  he  that  drew  her  picture  was 
a  good  limner,  and  he  that  wrote  of  her  said 
true. 

Great.  This  woman  is  a  witch,  and  it  is 
by  virtue  of  her  sorceries  that  this  The  world. 
ground  is  enchanted.  Whoever  doth  lay  his 
head  doAvn  in  her  lap,  had  as  good  lay  it  down 
on  that  block  over  which  the  axe  doth  hang; 
and  whoever  lay  their  eyes  upon  her  beauty 
are  counted  the  enemies  of  God.  This  is  she 
that  maintaineth  in  their  splendor  all  those  that 
arc  the  enemies  of  pilgrims.  James  4:4.  Yea, 
this  is  she  that  hath  bought  off  many  a  man 
from  a  pilgrim's  life.  She  is  a  great  gossiper ; 
she  is  always,  both  she  and  her  daughters,  at 
one  pilgrim's  heels  or  another,  now  commend- 
ing, and  then  preferring  the  excellences  of  this 
life.  She  is  a  bold  and  impudent  slut;  she 
will  talk  with  any  man.  She  always  laugheth 
poor  pilgrims  to  scorn,  but  highl}^  commends 
the  rich.  If  there  be  one  cunning  to  get  money 
in  a  place,  she  will  speak  well  of  him  from 
house  to  house.  She  loveth  banqueting  and 
feasting  mainly  well ;  she  is  always  at  one  full 
table  or  another.    She  has  given  it  out  in  some 


MADAM    lU   IJULK.^    LLllKj^.  03.') 

places  that  she  is  a  goddess,  and  therclbrc 
some  do  worship  her.  She  has  her  time,  and 
open  places  of  cheating ;  and  she  will  say  and 
avow  it,  that  none  can  show  a  ^ood  compara- 
ble to  hers.  She  promiseth  to  dwell  with  chil- 
dren's children,  if  they  will  but  love  her  and 
make  much  of  her.  She  will  cast  out  of  her 
purse  gold  like  dust  in  some  i)laces  and  to 
some  persons.  She  loves  to  be  sought  after, 
spoken  well  of,  and  to  lie  in  the  bosoms  of 
men.  She  is  never  weary  of  commending  her 
commodities,,  and  she  loves  them  most  that 
think  best  of  her.  She  will  promise  to  some 
crowns  and  kingdoms,  if  they  will  but  take  her 
advice ;  yet  many  hath  she  brought  to  the  hal- 
ter, and  ten  thousand  times  more  to  hell. 

"Oh,"  said  Standfast,  "what  a  mercy  is  it 
that  I  did  resist  her;  for  whither  might  she 
have  drawn  me  I' 

Great.  Whither?  nay,  none  but  God  knows 
whither.  But  in  general,  to  be  sure,  she  would 
have  drawn  thee  into  many  foolish  and  hurtful 
lusts,  which  drown  men  in  destruction  and  per- 
dition. 1  Tim.  G  :  9.  'T  was  she  that  set  Absa- 
lom against  his  father,  and  Jeroboam  against 
his  master.  T  was  she  that  persuaded  Judas 
to  sell  his  Lord  :  and  that  prevailed  with  De- 


636  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

mas  to  forsake  the  godly  pilgrim's  life.  None 
can  tell  of  the  mischief  that  she  doth.  She 
makes  variance  between  rnlers  and  subjects, 
between  parents  and  children,  between  neigh- 
bor and  neighbor,  between  a  man  and  his  wife, 
between  a  man  and  himself,  between  the  flesh 
and  the  spirit.  Wherefore,  good  Mr.  Stand- 
fast, be  as  your  name  is,  and  when  you  have 
done  all,  stand. 

At  this  discourse  there  was  among  the  pil- 
grims a  mixture  of  joy  and  trembling ;  but  at 
length  they  broke  out  and  sang, 

"What  clanger  is  the  iiilgrim  in! 
How  many  are  his  foes  ! 
How  many  ways  there  are  to  sin 
No  living  mortal  knows. 

Some  in  the  ditch  are  spoiled,  yea,  can 

Lie  tumbling  in  the  mire : 
Some,  though  they  shun  the  frying-pan, 

Do  leap  into  the  fire." 

After  this,  I  beheld  until  they  were  come 
into  the  land  of  Beulah^  where  the  sun  shineth 
night  and  day.  Here,  because  they  were  wea- 
ry, they  betook  themselves  a  while  to  rest. 
And  because  this  country  was  common  for  pil- 
grims, and  because  the  orchards  and  vineyards 
that  were  here  belonged  to  the  King  of  the 
celestial  country,  therefore  they  were  licensed 
to  make  bold  with  anv  of  his  thino:s.     But  a 


LAND   or   BKULAH.  637 

little  while  <nnn  relVcsliod  them  hero;  lor  the 
bells  (lid  so  ring,  and  the  trumpets  coiitiiiiially 
sound  so  melodiously,  that  they  could  not  sleep, 
iind  yet  they  received  as  much  refreshing  as 
if  they  had  slept  their  sleej)  ever  so  soundly. 
Here  also  all  the  noise  of  them  that  Avalked  the 
streets  was,  '"^lore  pilgrims  are  come  to  town."' 
And  another  would  answer,  saying,  "And  so 
many  went  over  the  water,  and  were  let  in  at 
the  golden  gates  to-day  I"  They  would  cry 
again,  "There  is  now  a  legion  of  shining  ones 
just  come  to  town,  by  which  we  know  that 
there  are  more  jtilgrims  upon  the  road;  for 
hero  they  come  to  wait  for  them,  and  to  com- 
fort them  after  all  their  sorrow."  Then  the 
})ilgrims  got  up.  and  walked  to  and  fro.  But 
how  were  their  ears  now  filled  with  heavenly 
noises,  and  their  eyes  delighted  with  celestial 
visions !  In  this  land  they  heard  nothing,  saw 
nothing,  felt  nothing,  smelt  nothing,  tasted 
nothing,  that  was  offensive  to  their  stomach  or 
mind;  only  when  they  tasted  of  the  water  of 
toVheViesil'.'biit  tlic  river  over  which  they  Averc  to 
loui.^  to  tiCg.^  ^j^^^^,  thonght  that  it  tasted  a  little 
bitterish  to  the  palate;  but  it  j)roved  sweeter 
when  it  was  down. 

In  this  place  there  was  a  record  kept  of 


638  PILGRIM-y  PROGRESS. 

the  names  of  them  that  had  been  pilgrims  of 
old,  and  a  history  of  all  the  famous  acts  that 
they  had  done.  It  was  here  also  much  dis- 
coursed, how  the  river  to  some  had  e^bfifg^'  ^''\^^^ 
had  its  flo wings,  and  what  ebbings  theme.' 
it  has  had  while  others  have  gone  over.  It 
has  been  in  a  manner  dry  for  some,  while  it 
has  overflowed  its  banks  for  others. 

In  this  place  the  children  of  the  town  would 
go  into  the  King's  gardens,  and  gather  nose- 
gajs  for  the  pilgrims,  and  bring  them  to  them 
with  much  affection.  Here  also  grew  camphor, 
with  spikenard  and  saffron,  calamus  and  cinna- 
mon, with  all  the  trees  of  frankincense,  myrrh, 
and  aloes,  with  all  chief  spices.  With  these 
the  pilgrim's  chambers  w^ere  perfumed  while 
they  stayed  here ;  and  with  these  vfere  their 
bodies  anointed,  to  prepare  them  to  go  over 
the  river,  when  the  time  appointed  was  come. 

Now,  while  they  lay  here,  and  waited  for 
the  good  hour,  there  was  a  noise  in  the  town 
that  there  was  a  post  come  from  the  celestial 
city,  with  matter  of  erreat  importance    a  messenger 

•^  ^  '^  of  death  sent  to 

to  one  Christiana,  the  wife  of  Chris-  Christiana. 
tian  the  pilgrim.      So  inquiry  was  made  for 
her,  and  the  house  was  found  out  where  she 
was.     So  the  post  presented  her  with  a  letter. 


MK^SAGK  TO  ("IIUISTIAXA.  (\:]\) 

Tlie  contents  were.  •"Hail,  f^-ood  wonian  ;  I  l)rin<;- 
His  message,  tlicc  tldings  tluit  tlic  Master  ealletli 
for  thee,  and  expeotetli  that  then  shouldst  stand 
in  liis  presence  in  clothes  of  immortality  with- 
in tliese  ten  days." 

When  he  had  read  this  letter  to  lier.  he 
gave  her  therewith  a  snre  token  that  he  was  a 
true  messenger,  and  was  come  to  bid  her  make 
haste  to  be  gone.  The  token  was,  an  arrow 
with  a  point  sharpened  with  love,  let  easil}' 
into  her  heart,  which  hy  degrees  wrought  so 
effectually  with  her,  that  at  the  time  appointed 
she  must  be  gone. 

When  Christiana  saw"  that  her  time  Avas 
Howweicome  couic,  aud  that  she  was  the  first  of 

death  is  to  them     ,  .  , 

that  have  iioth  this  companv  that  was  to  o;o  over, 

iiig  to  do  but  to  1         V  o  7 

''"  she  called  for  Mr.  Great-heart  her 

guide,  and  told  him  how  matters  were.  So  he 
told  her  he  was  heartily  glad  of  the  news,  and 
could  have  been  glad  had  the  post  come  for 

Jler  speech  to  lj|,j^      rpj^^^^  ^|^^  ^.^|  j^j^^^  ^^^^^  j^^  shoiM 

give  advice  how  all  things  should  be  prepared 
for  her  journey.  So  he  told  her,  saying,  ''Thus 
and  thus  it  must  be,  and  we  that  survive  will 
accompany  you  to  the  river-side." 

^  To    her    chil-      *       rpj^^^^   ^j^^  ^^^j^^|    ^^^^  j^^^.  ^.J^|l^|j.^j^^ 

and  gave  them  her  blessing,  and  told* them  that 


640  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

she  liacl  read  with  comfort  the  mark  that  was 
set  ill  their  foreheads,  and  was  gUxd  to  see 
them  with  her  there,  and  that  they  had  kept 
their  garments  so  white.  Lastly,  she  bequeath- 
ed to  the  poor  that  liftle  she  had,  and  com- 
manded her  sons  and  daughters  to  be  ready 
against  the  messenger  should  come  for  them. 

When  she  had  spoken  these  words  to  her 
guide,  and  to  her  children,  she  called  ianWOT^trum'!^' 
for  Mr.  Yaliant-for-truth,  and  said  unto  him, 
"Sir,  you  have  in  all  places  showed  yourself 
true-hearted;  be  faithful  unto  death,  and  my 
King  will  give  you  a  crown  of  life.  Rev.  2:10. 
I  would  also  entreat  you  to  have  an  eye  to  my 
children ;  and  if  at  any  time  you  see  them  faint, 
speak  comfortably  to  them.  For  my  daughters, 
my  sons'  wives,  they  have  been  faithful,  and  a 
fulfilling  of  the  promise  upon  them  will  be  their 
end."  But  she  gave  Mr.  Standfast  lust ''''  '*""'■ 
a  ring. 

Then  she  called  for  old  Mr.  Honest,  and 
said  of  him,  "'Behold  an  Israelite  to ow Honest. 
indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile  !'  "  John  1  :  47. 
Then  said  he,  "I  wish  you  a  fair  day  when 
you  set  out  for  Mount  Sion,  and  shall  be  glad 
to  see  that  you  go  over  the  river  dry-shod." 
But  she  answered,  "Come  wet,  come   dry,  I 


Cimi^TlANAS  corxsEL.  G41 

loiiLT  to  be  gone;  for  liowevei-  the  weather  is  in 
my  jonrney.  I  shall  have  time  enough  when  I 
eome  there  to  sit  down  and  rest,  and  dry  me."' 

Then  came  in  that  good  man  Mr.  Ileady- 
tJhait'  ^'*''"'^'"  to-halt,  to  sec  her.  So  she  said  to 
him,  "Thy  travel  hitherto  has  been  with  diffi- 
culty; but  that  will  make  thy  rest  the  sweeter. 
Watch,  and  be  ready;  for  at  an  hour  when  yc 
think  not,  the  messenger  may  come." 

After  him  came  Mr.  Despondency  and  his 
To  Mr.  PC  daughter  Much-afraid,  to  whom  she 

spondencv '  and  ^  •    ^       ^  \    o    ^ 

his  daughter.  pqI,^]^  "lou  ought.  With  thanklulncss, 
for  ever  to  remember  your  deliverance  from 
the  hands  of  giant  Despair,  and  out  of  Doubt- 
ing castle.  The  effect  of  that  mercy  is,  that 
you  arc  brought  with  safety  hither.  Be  ye 
watchful,  and  cast  away  fear;  be  sober,  and 
hope  to  the  end." 

Then  she  said  to  ^Ir.  Feeble-mind,  "Thou 
Jo  Mr.  Feeble  ^^.^^^  dclivcrcd  froui  the  mouth  of 
giant  Slay-good,  that  thou  mightest  live  in  the 
light  of  the  living,  and  see  thy  King  with  com- 
'fort.  Only  I  advise  thee  to  repent  of  thine 
aptness  to  fear  and  doubt  of  his  goodness,  be- 
fore he  sends  for  thee ;  lest  thou  shouldst,  when 
he  comes,  be  forced  to  stand  before  him  for 
that  fault  with  blushing." 


642  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

Now  the  day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must 
be  gone.     So  the  road  was  full  of    Her  last  day. 

and  manner  of 

people  to  see  her  take  her  journey,  departure. 
But  behold,  all  the  banks  beyond  the  riyer 
were  full  of  horses  and  chariots,  which  were 
come  down  from  aboye  to  accompany  her  to 
the  city  gate.  So  she  came  forth,  and  entered 
the  riyer,  with  a  beckon  of  farewell  to  those 
that  followed  her.  The  last  words  that  she 
Avas  heard  to  say  were,  "I  come.  Lord,  to  be 
with  thee  and  bless  thee!"  So  her  children 
and  friends  returned  to  their  place,  for  those 
that  waited  for  Christiana  had  carried  her  out 
of  their  sight.  So  she  went  and  called,  and 
entered  in  at  the  gate  Avith  all  the  ceremonies 
of  joy  that  her  husband  Christian  had  entered 
with  before  her.  At  her  departure,  the  chil- 
dren wept.  But  Mr.  Great-heart  and  Mr.  Val- 
iant played  upon  the  well-tuned  cymbal  and 
harp  for  joy.  So  all  departed  to  their  respec- 
tiye  places. 

In  process  of  time  there  came  a  post  to  the 
town  again,  and  his  business  was  hausummoued! 
with  Mr.  Ready-to-halt.  So  he  inquired  him 
out,  and  said,  "I  am  come  from  Him  whom 
thou  hast  loyed  and  followed,  though  upon 
crutches ;  and  my  message  is  to  tell  thee,  that 


TWO  PILGRIMS  SENT  FOR.  643 

he  expects  thee  at  his  table  to  sup  with  him  in 
liis  kingdom,  tlie  next  day  after  Easter ;  where- 
fore prepare  thyself  for  this  journey."  Then 
he  also  gave  liim  a  token  that  he  was  a  true 
messenger,  saying,  "I  liavc  broken  thy  goklen 
bowl,  and  loosed  thy  silver  cord."'  Eccl.  12  :  G. 
After  this,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  called  for  his 
fellow-})ilgrims,  and  told  them,  saying,  "I  am 
sent  for;  and  God  shall  surely  visit  3'ou  also." 
So  he  desired  Mr.  Valiant  to  make  his  will. 
And  because  he  had  nothing  to  bequeath  to 
them  that  should  survive  him  but  his  crutches, 
Promises,  aud  his  good  wishes,  therefore  thus 
His  will,  he  said,  "These  crutches  I  bequeath 
to 'my  son  that  shall  tread  in  my  steps,  with  a 
hundred  warm  wishes  that  he  may  prove  bet- 
ter than  I  have  been."  Then  he  thanked  ^Mr. 
Great-heart  for  his  conduct  and  kindness,  and 
so  addressed  himself  to  his  journey.  When  he 
came  to  the  brink  of  the  river,  he  said,  "  Xow 
I  shall  hav€  no  more  need  of  these  crutches, 
since  yonder  are  chariots  and  horses  for  me  to 
ride  on."  The  last  words  he  was  heard  to  say 
His  last  words,  wcrc,  "  AYclcome  life  !"  So  he  went 
his  way. 

,unfmonir'"''        Aftcr  this  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had 
tidings  brought  him  that  the  post  sounded  his 


644  PILGRIM'S   PR0G11L6S. 

horn  at  his  chambcr-dooi\  Then  he-  cuiae  in. 
and  told  him,  saying,  "I  am  come  to  tell  thee 
that  ihj  Master  hath  need  of  thee,  and  that  in 
a  very  little  time  thou  must  behold  his  face  in 
brightness.  And  take  this  as  a  token  of  the 
truth  of  my  message :  '  Those  that  look  out  at 
the  windows  shall  be  darkened.'  "  Eccl.  12  :  3. 
Then  Mr.  Feeble-mind  called  for  his  friends, 
and  told  them  what  errand  had  been  brought 
unto  him,  and  what  token  he  had  received  of 
the  truth  of  the  message.  Then  he  said,  "Since 
I  have  nothing  to  bequeath  to  any,  ^vul  ""'""  "" 
to  what  purpose  should  I  make  a  will  ?  As  for 
my  feeble  mind,  that  I  will  leave  behind  me, 
for  that  I  shall  have  no  need  of  in  the  place 
whither  I  go,  nor  is  it  worth  bestowing  upon 
the  poorest  pilgrims;  wherefore,  when  I  am 
gone,  I  desire  that  you,  Mr.  Valiant,  would 
bury  it  in  a  dunghill.''  This  done,  and  the 
day  being  come  on  which  he  was  to  depart,  he 
entered  the  river  as  the  rest.  Hi§  last  words 
were,  ' '  Hold  out,  faith  and  patience ! "  his  last  words. 
So  he  went  over  to  the  other  side. 

When  days  had  many  of  them  passed  away, 
Mr.  Despondencv  was  sent  for:  for    Mr. Despond 

ency    summon- 

a  post  was  come,  and  brought  this  ^<^- 
message  to  him:  "Trembling  man.  these  are 


D  K s  po X  D  V. \ ( •  V  s  r  ^r  m  o  x  k d .  (Uo 

to  siiminon  llico  lo  l)c'  ready  witli  the  Kinii'  by 
the  next  Lord's  day.  to  sliout  lor  Joy  for  tliy 
ileliveriiiiec  from  all  tliy  doiibting's.  And,'"  said 
the  niessengor,  ''tliat  my  messa.a'e  is  true,  take 
this  for  a  proof:'  so  lie  gave  him  a  grassliop- 
per  to  be  a  burden  unto  him,     Ecel.  12  rT). 

Xow  ^Fr.  Despondency's  daughter,  wliosc 
gooitoo""^"*"  name  was  Much-afraid,  said,  when 
sh(^  heard  wliat  was  done,  that  she  would  go 
with  her  father.  Then  ^Iv.  Despondency  said 
to  his  friends.  ••^lyself  and  my  daughter,  you 
know  what  avc  have  been,  and  how  trouble- 
somely  we  liave  behaved  ourselves  in  every 
His  will.  comi)any,  ^[y  will  and  my  daugh- 
ter's is,  that  our  desponds  and  slavish  fears  be 
by  no  man  ever  received,  from  the  day  of  our 
departure,  for  ever;  for  I  know  that  after  my 
death  they  will  offer  themselves  to  others. 
For,  to  be  i)lain  with  you,  they  are  ghosts 
which  we  entertained  when  we  first  began  to 
be  })ilgrims,  and  could  never  shake  them  off 
after:  and  they  will  walk  about,  and  seek  en- 
tertainment of  the  pilgrims:  but  for  our  sakes, 
shut  the  doors  u})on  them."  When  the  time 
was  come  for  them  to  d'l^part.  they  went  u})  to 
iiis  last  words,  thc  bi'luk  of  tlic  rivcr.  The  last 
words  of  Mr.  Despondency  were.  "  Farewell, 


G46  PlLCnUM'S  PROai^ERP. 

night;  welcome,  day!"  His  daughter  Avent 
through  the  river  singing,  but  none  could  un- 
derstand what  she  said. 

Then  it  came  to  pass  a  while  after,  that 
there  was  a  post  in  the  town  that  inquired  for 
Mr.  Honest.  So  he  came  to  the  house  where 
he  was,  and  delivered  to  his  hand  summoiJd""'''* 
these  lines  :  "Thou  art  commanded  to  be  ready 
against  this  day  sevennight,  to  present  thyself 
before  thy  Lord  at  his  Father's  house.  And 
for  a  token  that  my  message  is  true,  '  All  the 
daughters  of  music  shall  be  brought  low."  "■ 
Eccl.  12  : 4.  Then  Mr.  Honest  called  for  his 
friends,  and  said  unto  them,  "I  die,  ^"^  makes  no 
but  shall  make  no  will.  As  for  my  honesty,  it 
shall  go  with  me ;  let  him  that  comes  after  be 
told  of  this."  When  the  day  that  he  Avas  to  be 
gone  was  come,  he  addressed  himself  to  go 
over  the  river.  Now  the  river  at  that  time 
overflowed  its  banks  in  some  places;  but  Mr. 
Honest,  in  his  lifetime,  had  spoken  science °°'^ifeips 

,  /^  1  •  J.  i.   1   •         Mr.  Honest 

to  one  (jood-conscience  to  meet  him  over  the  river. 
there,  the  which  he  also  did,  and  lent  him  his 
hand,  and  so  helped  him  over.    The  last  words 
of  Mr.  Honest  were,  "Grace  reigns!"     So  he 
left  the  world. 

After  this  it  was  noised  abroad  that  Mr. 


VAI.IWTS   LAST   WOIUiS.  04te 

Valiniit-foi-tfiilli  was  taken  with  a  siiinmoiis  l)y 

Mr.    Valiant     tllC    SaillC    JlOSt    aS    tllC    OtllOl",    aiul    luul 
for  truth     sum- 

ii.oned.  ^i^jg  f<),.  j^  token  (liat  (lie  suminoiis 

was  true,  that  liis  ••  pitclier  was  broken  at  the 
fountain."  Keel.  12  :  (1.  When  he  understood 
it.  lie  called  for  liis  friends,  and  told  them  of 
it.  Then  said  lie.  "I  am  iroinir  to  my  Father's; 
and  though  with  great  difficulty  I  have  got 
hither,  yet  now  I  do  not  repent  me  of  all  the 
trouble  I  have  been  at  to  arrive  where  I  am. 
His  will.  My  sword  I  give  to  him  that  shall 
succeed  me  in  my  i)ilgrimage,  and  my  courage 
and  skill  to  him  that  can  get  it.  ^Fy  marks 
and  scars  I  carry  with  me,  to  be  a  witness  for 
me  that  I  have  fought  His  battles  who  will 
now  be  my  rewarder."'  When  the  day  that  he 
must  go  hence  was  come,  many  accompanied 
him  to  the  river-side,  into  which  as  he  went, 
he  said,  "Death,  where  is  thy  sting?''  And 
Kis  last  words,  as  hc  wcut  dowu  deeper,  he  said, 
"Grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?"  1  Cor.  15  :  55. 
So  he  passed  over,  and  all  the  trumpets  sound- 
ed for  him  on  the  other  side. 

Then  there  came  forth  a  summons  for  ^fr. 
summoned'''''  Staudfast.  This  Mr.  Standfast  was 
lie  whom  the  rest  of  the  i)ilgi'ims  found  upon 
his  knees  in  the  Enchanted  ground.     And  the 


648  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 

post  broiiglit  it  him  open  in  liis  hands ;  the  con- 
tents thereof  were,  that  he  must  prepare  for  a 
change  of  life,  for  his  Master  was  not  willing 
that  he  shonld  be  so  far  from  him  any  longer. 
At  this  Mr.  Standfast  was  put  into  a  muse. 
"Nay,"  said  the  messenger,  "you  need  not 
doubt  of  the  truth  of  my  message ;  for  here  is 
a  token  of  the  truth  thereof,  '  Thy  wheel  is 
broken  at  the  cistern.'"  Eccl.  12:6.  Then 
he  called  to  him  Mr.  Great-heart,  ^'r'eat'helrt.^'"'- 
who  was  their  guide,  and  said  unto  him,  "Sir, 
although  it  was  not  my  hap  to  be  ^iS'^ '^"''^  **' 
much  in  your  good  company  during  the  days 
of  my  pilgrimage,  yet,  since  the  time  I  knew 
you,  you  have  been  profitable  to  me.  When  I 
came  from  home,  I  left  behind  me  a  wife  and 
five  small  children  ;  let  me  entreat  3^ou,  at  your 
return,  (for  I  know  that  you  go  and  return  to 
your  Master's  house,  in  hopes  that  you  may 
yet  be  a  conductor  to  more  of  the  holy  pil- 
grims,) that  you  send  to  my  family,  and  let 
them  be  acquainted  with  all  that  hath  .iSdiy"' '° 
and  shall  happen  unto  me.  Tell  them  more- 
over of  my  happy  arrival  at  this  place,  and  of 
the  present  and  late  blessed  condition  I  am  in. 
Tell  them  also  of  Christian  and  Christiana  his 
wife,  and  how  she  and  her  children  came  after 


licr  liiisl)an<l.  Tell  tliciii  also  of  what  a  luippy 
ciitl  she  iiiatK'.  and  whilhcr  she  is  p>ii('.  I 
luivc  litlh'  oi-  iiothiiiLi-  ((>  ^'vwd  to  my  I'aniily. 
unless  it  be  pi-ayei's  and  tears  j'oi-  them:  ol" 
which  it  will  siillire  th;it  you  ae(iuaiiit  them,  if 
l)eradveului'e  they  may  prevail."  When  Mr. 
Standfast  had  thus  set  thiu^tis  in  order,  and  the 
time  'heinu'  come  lor  him  to  haste  him  away, 
he  also  went  down  to  the  ri\'er.  Now  there 
was  a  groat  calm  at  that  time  in  the  river; 
wluM-efore  Mr.  Standfast,  when  he  was  about 
hall'-way  in,  stood  a  while,  and  talked  with  his 
comi)anions  that  liad  waited  upon  him  thither. 
His  last  wouis  And  he  said,  "This  river  ha.s  been 
a  terror  to  many ;  yea,  the  thoughts  of  it  also 
have  often  frightened  me ;  but  now  mcthinks  I 
stand  easy  ;  my  foot  is  lixed  uj)on  that  on  which 
the  feet  of  the  priests  that  bore  the  ark  of  the 
covenant  stood  while  Israel  w^nt  over  Jordan. 
Josh  o  :  IT.  The  waters  indeed  are  to  the  pal- 
ate l)itter,  and  to  the  stomach  cold:  yet  the 
thoughts  of  what  I  am  going  to,  and  of  the 
convoy  that  waits  for  me  on  the  other  side,  do 
lie  as  a  glowing  coal  at  my  heart.  I  see  my- 
self now  at  the  end  of  my  journey;  my  toil- 
some days  are  ended.  T  am  going  to  see  that 
head  which  was  crowned  with  thorns,  and  that 


G50  riLG  RIM'S  PROGRESS. 

face  which  was  spit  upon  for  inc.  I  have  for- 
merly lived  by  hearsay  and  faith :  but  now  I 
go  where  I  shall  live  by  sight,  and  shall  be 
with  Him  in  whose  conqjany  I  delight  myself. 
I  have  loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spoken  of;  and 
wherever  I  have  seen  the  print  of  his  shoe  i:i 
the  earth,  there  I  have  coveted  to  set  my  foot 
too.  His  name  has  been  to  me  as  a  civet-box ; 
yea,  sweeter  than  all  perfumes.  His  voice  to 
me  has  been  most  sweet,  and  his  countenance 
I  have  more  desired  than  they  that  have  most 
desired  the  light  of  the  sun.  His  words  I  did 
use  to  gather  for  my  food,  and  for  antidotes 
against  my  faintings.  He  hath  held  me,  and 
hath  kept  me  from  mine  iniquities ;  yea,  my 
steps  hath  he  strengthened  in  his  way."' 

Now,  while  he  was  thus  in  discourse,  his 
countenance  changed;  his  strong  man  bowed 
under  him:  and  after  he  had  said,  "Take  me, 
for  I  come  unto  thee,"'  he  ceased  to  be  s^en  of 
them. 

But  glorious  it  was  to  see  how  the  open 
region  was  filled  with  horses  and  chariots,  with 
trumpeters  and  pipers,  with  singers  and  players 
upon  stringed  instruments,  to  welcome  the  pil- 
grims as  they  went  up,  and  followed  one  an- 
other in  at  the  beautiful  gate  of  the  city. 


THE   AlTllUir<   FAIIKWKl.I..  051 

As  for  Clii-istiamrs  chiMrcn,  tli(>  igiir  boys 
tlmt  Clirisliaim  l)i-()iiglit,  willi  llieir  wives  and 
cliikli-eii,  1  did  not  stay  ^vIlel•c  I  ^Yas  till  they 
were  gone  over.  Also,  since  I  came  away,  I 
lieai'd  one  say  that  they  wore  yet  alive,  and  so 
would  lie  for  the  increase  of  the  church  in  that 
place  where  they  were,  for  a  time. 

Should  it  be  my  lot  to  go  that  way  again, 
T  may  give  those  that  desire  it  an  account  of 
what  r  here  am  silent  about;  meantime  I  bid 
mv  reader 

FAREWELL. 


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